Hunting birds
by Evil Ratchet
Summary: Malik is a monster hunter in fictional medieval Italy, filled with bloodthirsty monsters behind every corner. He has had his entire life, memories recurring in flashes, of his forgotten childhood, but they flashbacks kick up a notch when he's assigned to kill a monster in Venice. AltMal
1. Prologue

A/N: This is my first crack at AC. If somebody recognizes this, don't be alarmed, I will be cross posting this ti AO3, where you can find it as well. I will post the censored version here and the uncensored one to AO3.

* * *

Prologue

An old oak tree grew outside of Leonardo's workshop with thick limbs that sometimes cast unconventional shadows on his works. Whenever they fell on his in-progress paintings or schematics, he considered asking someone to cut the tree down for firewood, but other times he enjoyed the songbirds nesting on its branches, singing melodies while sketching them down with a charcoal.

However, one day in the early spring the oak tree was dead silent. All the songbirds had disappeared overnight as if some nightly hunter had devoured them. Leonardo, accustomed to the constant singing noticed this immediately when he woke up late in the morning. The sun was already high up in the sky beaming down warmth unique to the Italian spring. He stepped outside his workshop still wearing the same paint-stained garments he had fallen asleep in in the previous night and cast his eyes on the oak tree.

He examined the tree, but could see nothing out of ordinary. The leaves were still full and green, the bark still thick and brown, and the branches still strong enough to support several full grown men. Nothing that should scare away an entire colony of songbirds was observed until he took notice of the large cavity in the trunk now inhabited by very big and mean looking owl.

The owl was nesting he realised, but it took a few more seconds to determine the species as eagle owl. The owl was huge - just a little bit smaller than a golden eagle – had a menacing angry glare and ear tufts, which would have amused him in any other time. It was bad news as he soon found out when the male owl appeared looking less than happy to see Leonardo peering at the tree.

Leonardo managed to avoid the terrifying talons of the gigantic owl by hair's width, while scrambling towards the backdoor of his workshop. He slammed the door open and hastily closed it behind himself after he had all but dived through it.

'Well that was exciting,' he thought to himself while attempting to catch his breath, shortened by the shock of attempted violence by sharp talons. For a while he thought of asking the Auditores to come and drive the owls out, but decided against it in the end. He could leave the back door of his shop alone in favour of using the front door exclusively. It would be only this summer and then the owls would be gone. He could manage.

As time went on Leonardo found himself infinitely more amused by the owl family than he ever had with the songbirds. He sketched the owls while they perched on the branches and found himself observing the two hatched owlets over the past few weeks since nesting. The owlets would wander around the nest even during daylight hours, looking very out of place with their grey feathers contrasting with the dark brown bark of the tree.

The owlets looked more like balls of fluff with sharp talons than the majestic birds of prey they were supposedly becoming. They seemed to be insatiable creatures by nature, since all the hares and other prey the parents brought their younglings were devoured near instantaneously. Of course there were other side effects to Leonardo's life from the presence of the eagle owls other than not daring to use his back door anymore, such as the rapid decline in rodents invading and eating anything even slightly edible his cupboards and other storage spaces.

* * *

All in all the owl family didn't really affect his life much until one rainy day he looked outside of his window. All he saw at the oak tree were scattered feathers everywhere and some blood and bits and pieces of something akin to meat were laying in puddles soaked red from blood. There was also a considerable lack of owls there. Leonardo had learnt where to look to find the owls in the tree, even during daylight hours and right now he didn't see any of the four owls.

The only logical conclusion was that something had driven them away and possibly killed the owlets. Maybe it was a weasel or a mean cat. His neighbour had a huge tomcat who liked to eat anything it managed to sink its claws in and wasn't afraid to fight other cats or even dogs, so not too far fetched an idea? Or maybe a weasel had slunk up the tree while the adults had been away hunting and eaten the young ones before anybody had noticed anything. The possibilities were endless, but he couldn't afford himself to be caught thinking in endless loops about owls while he had actual work to do, so he returned back to building one of his many, many contraptions.

The monster hunters under Auditore rule were on relying him to design and build them better equipment. He had designed endless amounts of crossbows, swords, bombs, traps and even runes. The land was infested with all kinds of terrors waiting to consume their next victim while taking forms varying from giant wolves to magical demons possessing trees and people alike. He couldn't afford to mourn for owls, not in the middle of all of this.

However he was thrown out of his thoughts while working on a yet another weapon design by a sudden heavy thump sound to the back door. He wasn't expecting anyone and while the Auditore children made unplanned visits to his workshop, they knew by now to use the front door to avoid the ire of the owl family.

He reluctantly left his work to make it towards the door. His mind went through all the possible visitors he could have who would throw themselves or some object at the door and use the backdoor at that. When he had arrived to the point where he had his hand on the handle, his most urgent thoughts were how he was completely out of cookies to serve for the visitors.

However all his thoughts about cookies, tea and weapon designs immediately vanished when he saw what actually was outside of his door. Two children sat huddled together, wet from the rain and covered in mud, although that in itself was not the surprising part; the neighbour's children and his main employer's three did the same during spring rains. The surprising part was seeing two quite naked and obviously foreign children, immediately deduced from their much darker skin colour and hair sitting huddled outside while looking so very, very lost.

Leonardo stood at his door with his mouth agape, while his mind was racing in an attempt to find a logical conclusion. The children looked at him with eyes wide open in some undefinable emotion, looking awfully lot like the two owlets and he looked back at them with a similar look before he finally asked:

"Where are your clothes and your parents?"

The bigger and older one of the two, although not by much if what Leonardo estimated was accurate, answered:

"I do not know. I do not even know where we are."

The oddly calm voice was accented, so yes, definitely foreigners.

"Can we come in? It's cold here," the smaller child piped in, while the older one glared suspiciously.

"Sure, but only until we find your parents. You couldn't have just dropped out of the sky here," Leonardo answered while moving out of the way.

He couldn't possibly have known that the short stay until the parents would be found, extended well beyond ten years. The owls may have been gone from his yard, but in their stead two little boys would be terrorizing his workshop. It was not a position he ever thought he would find himself in, but life is unpredictable like that.


	2. Monster in the swamp part 1

Chapter 1: The monster in the swamp part 1

Malik wasn't the strongest fighter nor the fastest runner, and he didn't have much talent for magic either. Luckily he was very agile, proven when a wolf the size of a small horse lunged at him. He avoided the snapping jaws by a hairs width. The beast looked mangy, smelled of rotting flesh and sported a set of teeth which could easily tear someone's head or limb off. The creature had been attacking farms surrounding Monteriggioni for weeks now, leaving a trail of bodies both human and cattle in its wake.

This wasn't a normal wolf, not with glowing green eyes and black drool dripping from its mouth, which was the reason why Malik was facing it in the middle of night near a wheat field. He drew his silver longsword. Runes ingrained directly into the blade glowed a faint red in the darkness.

He needed to think quickly about his next move before the beast attacked again. Fighting a creature like this was simple in theory. Just keep stabbing it with a silver sword until it goes down, but that's the thing it's a theory. In actuality, previous experience has taught him that there's so much more to do than just swing his sword around or he might end up having less limbs than he had before he entered fight.

What mattered here was his main strengths: his intelligence and ruthless personality in the hunt. He looked coolly at the wolf, measuring his next move carefully. The canine turned around since its previous attack now growling with its teeth bared. The beast charged again towards him, mouth foaming, while making guttural noises.

He reached quickly with his left hand for his weapons belt, which was hidden beneath his black cloak. In a fraction of a second, he pulled out a small bomb from a pouch while never letting his gaze falter from the monstrous canine. Looking away was dangerous in the business of monster hunting.

With a quick flick of his wrist he threw the bomb with great accuracy right into the wolf's face. It wasn't much of an explosion since the bomb was small, but enough to momentarily blind and distract the beast. The explosion made the wolf stop in its tracks with a spine shattering howl. It lowered its head and attempted to scratch it furiously with its front paws, drawing blood from its own face in the process.

Malik didn't stop to marvel at the actions of the beast, since he knew he might have only moments to act. He charged sideways to flank the beast's exposed side with an expression of utter concentration. When he had nearly reached the wolf, he ducked and slid under the canine, slicing through the soft tissue of its stomach. The nasty gash rained blood on him.

He emerged from the other side of the beast considerably more blood-soaked than before. He made a disgusted face for a brief while before springing back to action. The wolf's gut was now hanging open in the air, sticking with grass and leaves from the sticky surface. The beast howled and growled in agony mixed with rage, but Malik was faster than the now badly wounded beast. He successfully avoided the bone crushing jaws directed towards him while staying within close quarters to the animal.

He used the wolf's erratic movements against it to push his sword through the beast's throat until it cleaved through its neck and the runeworks lit the creature on fire. His right hand was covered in sticky blood right down to his shoulder while more blood sprayed onto his black robes from the puncture wound on the creature's front side. The beast's movements slowed down until Malik found himself bearing the weight of the monster.

Considerably more force was needed to pull his sword out, since gravity was working against him pushing the large wolf against his sword, making him bear the full weight of the corpse practically on top of him. He managed to extract the sword with a struggle before being burned by the flames that were slowly spreading all around the monster. He kicked the body for good measure while a subtle smirk set on his features. The sword needed to be cleaned before sheathing so it wouldn't be ruined, but he couldn't do that until he knew the monster was properly disposed of.

He sat down on a fence, which surrounded the wheat field, and stared at the burning corpse of the monster. He had blood splatter on his face which he could feel slowly drying, leaving an itch. Malik knew that at the moment he looked more like a mass murderer or a butcher than a respected citizen of Monteriggioni but he didn't care. At the moment, as the adrenaline coursed through his veins, sending shivers down his spine, he felt so much more alive than in those peaceful days between the hunts when Kadar and Ezio insisted on dragging him to the local brothel to 'enjoy' the girls or to drink themselves to oblivion.

The hunt was what he lived for. It was something Leonardo or Kadar could never understand. They thought of monster hunting as a means to an end, which was true, but Malik felt he had been born a hunter and to do otherwise would have been denying himself something integral to his persona. Nothing was more satisfactory than ridding the world of one more monster, doing one more kill, and proving to himself his true place in the world.

He loved prowling the countryside in the middle of a night in search of his target. The thrill of tracking his prey, setting the traps, and the fight itself stirred something deep inside of him. It was those times he usually had the oddest feeling of almost remembering something. They were flashes behind his eyes showing him pictures of things he assumed happened before Leonardo had found him and Kadar at his doorstep.

The pictures often had images of blood and gore, but not always. Today he saw a glimpse of sand dunes basking in moonlight. He tried to catch more of the image, but it seemed to slip away like water trickling through fingers. It was always like this, but for some reason he was the only one to have these lapses.

Kadar never had any flashes from their previous life, which was why after a few times he had seen an image he had stopped telling anyone about them. He had told Leonardo once about his mental flashes, but the artist had just chuckled and told him not to worry about it. Malik was sure the man had a few very good hypotheses, since Leonardo was a genius without a rival, but probably didn't want to worry the still child Malik had been.

He snapped out of his musings when the burning corpse of the giant wolf started spasming, but he didn't move from his spot. His expression hardened into a scowl. The evil spirit was leaving the body and if everything went as it should, everything should be over within the next few minutes without even having to lift his sword as the fire cleansed the spirit. He needed to stay alert in case the spirit proved to be more resilient and malicious; then he would have to face it once more.

It was always like this: fire, salt and silver, the key ingredients for banishing evil while purifying the vessel. A successful hunter knew how to utilise all of these components in several different ways, although he himself enjoyed using the sword above all else since it allowed him to get close up and personal with his enemy.

He then saw the purified spirit leave the burning corpse. The cleansed spirit appeared like a shapeless foxfire above the flames before disappearing into the cool night air. He muttered the obligatory prayers before cleaning his blade with a piece of cloth he carried within his pouches.

Everything around him was silent apart from the crackling of the burning corpse and wheat stalks swishing against each other in the gentle wind. He took his time cleaning the sword from the blood and grime accumulated on it, inspecting it for any new nicks or scratches at the same time. Silver was not nearly as durable a material as steel, yet infinitely more expensive, so neglect wasn't an option. This knowledge was driven into him and Ezio with harsh words from Mario Auditore, which he could still remember years after of the man's death very vividly.

When he was finally pleased with the condition of his sword, he jumped down from the fence and sheathed the weapon to the scabbard hanging against his left hip. The weight of the weapon was a familiar feeling, so ingrained to his being it might just as well be a part of him.

There was a horse nearby which he had used earlier that night to come to the small clearing between the wheat field and the forest behind it in search of the monster wolf. He made it to the horse, checked the tack quickly - finding everything to be as it should be and easily hopped on. The horse was nothing fancy, just a dark bay gelding of average size and build, which suited him just fine.

The beast was dead, spirit cleansed, all that remained was to make it back to Monteriggioni and report to Giovanni Auditore in the morning before going to sleep. The monster hunters lived in the night because their prey also did, but the normal citizens of Monteriggioni didn't, making the life of a hunter sometimes solitary, even lonely.

Malik didn't mind though, because he had always felt like he didn't quite belong. He was wary of people outside of his small circle of friends and family, unlike Kadar who seemed to trust any stranger he met, which sent Malik on the verge of a nervous breakdown at times. Becoming a hunter had not changed much for him apart from sleeping during the day, which he had already grown accustomed to years ago.

He arrived to Monteriggioni after half an hour of hard riding and was greeted by Ezio, who had also arrived from an assignment just before him. A dim light hanging from a wall illuminated the cocky italian. He gave the horse to a stable hand, who must have resented his job from the tired look on his face.

"Malik! My friend, how fared the hunt?" the Italian motioned over enthusiastically with his hands while speaking. Malik noted how the other hunter was considerably less bloody than he himself was. How annoying.

"There was a giant demonic wolf terrorizing the peasants. I found the beast and killed it. End of the story. And hello to you as well," Malik answered with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"You my friend, are too serious; if you keep that expression up you'll end up looking like an old man before turning thirty," Ezio countered while patting Malik on the back, where there was considerably less blood than on his front.

"Yes, yes, yes, so I have been told countless times. Also that I frighten small children with my angry glare and that the village women call me a grouch behind my back," Malik replied with a sigh. This was an age old conversation they had had countless times over the years.

At that Ezio bursted into laughter while Malik looked at the Italian with amusement. The other hunter had a very contagious laughter and it took all of his willpower not to laugh with the Italian.

"Now, what have you been up to all night, since judging by your looks it has not involved any fighting. Or maybe your target frightened the great Falcon of Monteriggioni, so you ran away?" Malik inquired while crossing his arms, attempting to look judgemental.

Ezio's ezpression turned smug beyond reason.

"I have been guarding one of the brothels the whole night."

"You what?! Do you not mean, you have been fooling around with the girls while on duty?" Malik looked on with disbelief.

"No no my friend. There was supposed to be a succubus preying on the poor girls, but it turned out to be nothing. Of course it took me plenty of hard research to find the truth and -"

"Just no. I know the next thing coming out of your mouth is something I would really rather not hear. Are you sure you yourself are not secretly a succubus? It sure would explain a _lot._ " Malik glared disapprovingly.

"Would that be such a bad thing? I would be the sexiest succubus in all of Italy," Ezio declared proudly to the eerily silent night. A dog started barking somewhere. Malik didn't say anything for a while letting the idiocy of the statement sink in.

"You are incorrigible."

"And you, my friend, are still a grouch." Ezio smirked, and Malik gave the Italian a deadly stare before walking to the direction of the villa with the Italian in tow.

The first rays of sun were slowly starting to make their way above the horizon. It would be still a while before proper daylight, before the community woke up, and before the hunters would finally sleep themselves. Plenty of time to make himself presentable to the world, to be rid off all the grime and blood.

Just as they were about to part ways, Ezio nudged him in the side with a playful smirk on his face, which Malik had come to know meant nothing good.

"In the evening come and join me for a sparring match, since I have all this pent up energy in me. I need to get rid of it somehow. I know you have a couple of days free just like I do, so don't even try that excuse."

"No," was Malik's immediate answer. The Italian bested him in every physical way save for his agility, but that was not reason he refused. He could outwit and outmanoeuvre Ezio in a swordfight, but he had just fought a giant monster wolf while the other man had spent his night probably having copious amounts of sex, which gave him the disadvantage, and he absolutely detested losing to anyone. It didn't matter whether the challenge was physical or intellectual; he just hated losing.

"Find someone else. I just fought a giant monster wolf possessed by an evil spirit," Malik interjected before Ezio could start whining.

"Fine. I will fight your brother then," Ezio stated calmly, but his face was full of unmitigated glee. Malik realised he had set himself up for this since the other man knew he didn't want Kadar fighting Ezio. In fact, if possible he would rather Kadar fought no one, but that was simply impossible when his brother was a city guard. Malik also knew that his brother would love to spar with Ezio, but he also knew that the flirtatious Italian was as ruthless when sparring as he was when fighting monsters in the field.

"No!" Malik turned around to face Ezio with his posture full of aggression. The other hunter faced him without even a flinch.

"I will spar with you, but not this evening. I will have a match with you tomorrow and until then you need to find some other outlet for your unspent energy," he all but growled at the Italian. Malik knew he was haggling at this point just to have some advantage.

"I knew you would come around. You know I would hug you, but you are covered in blood and pieces of intestines, so I'd rather not," Ezio beamed.

"Fuck you."

"I love you too," Ezio countered. Then they parted ways with a wave of their hands. Malik made his way to his own private chambers within the villa where he quickly undressed out of his bloody robes in favour of clean ones. He would have to wash his clothes come evening, but for now he was content to throw them in a pile next to his bed, which was starting to look very attractive at this point.

The exhaustion was starting to show on him now that all the adrenaline had drained from his body, but before he could rest, he still had to make his report. His limbs were starting to feel heavy. The blood washed off his face and hands with the water he kept in a basin in his room and a good scrubbing with a wet rag. The water felt cool against his skin helping him feel more awake.

After rubbing his face thoroughly with a rough towel in a further attempt to make himself more aware of his surroundings despite the drowziness he was feeling, he restrapped his sword on his left hip just in case. Giovanni's office was only a few corridors away, but he felt nervous without any weaponry, even in his own home which was surrounded by several magical wards and protective spells. It was a habit which he knew didn't have any rational basis behind it, but he could not stop acting on it.

When he reached the office of Giovanni Auditore, he found Ezio already there giving his report to his father. Malik decided to stay back, leaning against the wall next to the door until the other hunter was done reporting. He didn't bother listening to Ezio's overly dramatic exposition on his investigations in the whore house. Instead he started counting the cracks in the ceiling, which he knew there were 32 of, but maybe the amount had changed since the last time.

He was startled out of his thoughts regarding the cracks in the ceiling when he heard his name being called. Immediately he straightened his posture. Then he trained his eyes on the middle aged Italian sitting behind a massive wooden desk.

"Your report, Malik."

Malik sighed and began explaining the things that had gone down during the night. He wanted to be done as soon as possible and hit the bed for a well deserved rest.

"I caught the beast near a farm house. It would have probably killed either the livestock pasturing outside or one of the people living there if I had not intervened. In the end it turned out to be a wolf possessed by an evil spirit, which I of course drove out of the body and then proceeded to cleanse. I didn't find any other tracks, so it is pretty safe to assume this was the only such wolf causing all the problems in the area. I also burned the body just in case."

"Very good to hear. You may be excused. I'll make a call for you when I need you next time, but you can have couple of days off now."

"Thank you sir," Malik said while resisting the urge to turn right on his heels and rush for his bed. It took all of his willpower to both stay awake and act calmly. Only the scowl on his face betrayed how tired he actually was. Even though he had now gone years without sleeping during the nights, which had come to him surprisingly easily, he had no way of fighting against the sluggishness resulting from the strain of battling monsters that could tear you to shreds if you weren't careful. The stress finally being lifted from his shoulders always resulted in him crashing down hard while acting even crankier than usual.

If anybody had tried to strike a conversation with him while he was on his way back to his chambers, he would have punched them without feeling any remorse and then proceeded to walk over them without caring even one bit. Luckily everyone walking the corridors at the early hours of the morning knew better than that.

As soon as he reached his chambers, he all but threw his gear followed by his clothes to the floor and on top of the chair sitting by the small writing desk he had. He just couldn't give a damn at the moment fell asleep immediately when his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Saying it was a weird feeling to wake up in the late afternoon was an understatement because after years and years of doing so Malik still wasn't used to it. It was odd to wake up into a world in full motion and yet he himself was still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. The sun would be shining harshly down on the small town, the streets would be buzzing with people running errands around and the air would be filled with aromas varying from fresh bread to sewage waste.

He dressed himself up in his hunter gear sans the heavy cloak, which was simply unbearably hot to wear in the afternoon sun. He took a quick look at himself in the small mirror he had, noting the need to shave soon, but his hair needing to be cutnow. It was starting to get a bit too long for his liking - not long in the sense Ezio had his ridiculous ponytail, but long nevertheless.

His door swung open with a jarring creak. Only one person would dare to enter his chambers without knocking or announcing their presence. Still, his hand went on his sword on an instinct.

"Kadar." Malik frowned.

"Hello brother," Kadar announced cheerfully. His little brother was wearing his city guard uniform, as his shift had probably just ended. He looked way too cheerful for a person with as serious a job as the one he had. Being part of the Auditores' personal guard seemed to mean, most of the time in Kadar's case, causing trouble with Claudia or Ezio, and even sometimes with Federico. Malik's brother was paid for acting like a child while he went around the country killing bloodthirsty monsters.

"Do you have a death wish?" he growled at his brother, crossing his arms in disapproval.

"I knew you would know it was me," was the answer he was given, which made him sigh while stepping closer to his brother. He put his right hand on his brother's shoulder and had to look up into the blue eyes, which was also a thing he would probably never be used to. Malik was the older brother, yet his younger brother was taller and broader than he was; in fact Kadar was bigger than Ezio who also was slightly taller than Malik. It wasn't like he was short, but everyone around him was just impossibly tall.

"You should not be so trusting. Not to me nor to anyone else for that matter. Remember what happened to Petruccio," he lectured.

Kadar nodded in response. Petruccio was the youngest of the Auditores, and like Ezio, he was being trained to become a monster hunter. But Petruccio died during the training, never making it to a full-fledged hunter. It was that point Malik forced his brother to leave the monster hunting training in favour of becoming a guard. Kadar did still retain a basic grasp of fighting monsters.

"And you, my brother, should try to be more social instead of sulking and skulking in the shadows all the time." Kadar jabber Malik slightly in the shoulder. Malik threw his arms in the air while rolling his eyes.

"Yes, thank you for this lovely insight. Why does everyone insist on telling me what I should do? What have I done to deserve all this 'special' attention?" he delivered sarcastically while giving a sideways glare at his brother and crossing his arms. Kadar was grinning, looking like he had won a prize at a contest. Sometimes Malik suspected his brother enjoyed working his temper up.

"But I'm just so so worried about you Malik," though Kadar's voice told a completely different story. His face was also full of smug satisfaction, which kind of gave him away.

"When did you become such an ass? What happened to my sweet little brother, who was full of awe and wonder for the world?" Malik sighed to exclamate his point.

"Maybe he _grew_ up." Kadar looked pointedly down at his older brother, earning himself a smack to his left arm.

"I can still beat you left and right."

"Then why do you never fight me anymore?"

Malik was being goaded to fight against his will, again. What was up with everyone wanting to fight him all of a sudden? Was there a bet going around he was not aware of? Because there had to be, since Kadar had been happy to not spar with him for ages. He didn't want to fight his brother, since he didn't trust himself not to hurt him. Malik had been trained to kill mercilessly without hesitation. The monsters he fought during the nights did not pull punches, so he couldn't do that either, not even in a practice fight. He had to be efficient, precise, and most of all deadly, all attributes very good against killer monsters but so very bad against younger brothers.

"I can not. I promised to spar with Ezio tomorrow evening and today I need to get my clothes washed and find time to meet with Leonardo," he answered, but even to his own ears the words coming out of his mouth sounded more like excuses. Kadar stared hard at him before finally saying,

"You know that is not what I meant, but I don't want to argue with you, since you never stop once you get going." Kadar looked thougthful for a while before adding,

"I can at least come watch you spar with Ezio tomorrow. It should be amusing." The younger brother's face transformed into an unabashed grin.

"Why are you grinning? I do not like the look on your face," Malik said annoyed.

"Like I would miss an opportunity for my brother to be brought down a peg," Kadar said, which in response made Malik's face turn into an angry scowl. Kadar broke into laughing fit.

Malik all but man handled his now giggling younger brother out of his room and slammed the door shut, making sure to lock it. He had just woken up, he was hungry, his second pair of clothes were bloodied and dirty, and his brother had nerve to annoy him. Malik knew his day would be miserable.

* * *

After being thrown out of Malik's room, which wasn't that unusual since his brother had never been much of a morning person, or, well even evening person for that matter, Kadar made it to the Leonardo's workshop where he had promised to help the inventor try out some new gadgets.

He was still sour for his brother refusing to spar with him, though he didn't let it show on his face instead wearing a heart-melting smile, which had always gotten him out of trouble. Malik had never mastered the look of complete and total innocence. With his constant frowning and scowling his older brother appeared a rather unpleasant creature. Kadar knew though that his older brother just didn't trust anyone, which in turn made his life at times difficult because he actually liked people.

If he had not ended up a guard, he probably would have wanted to become a merchant, so that he could meet as many people as possible. For a while a he had detested his brother for basically throwing him out of hunter training, but after spending time training to become a guard he changed his mind. He was actually a very good fighter, in fact among the best in the guard.

When he had still been training for monster hunting, he had, to put it bluntly, struggled getting through even the basics. It had been the same for poor Petruccio who got maimed by some lesser demon during a training exercise. As a guard he was good and respected, and most of his time spent guarding meant gossiping with Claudia or riding around the countryside with her.

Besides he was being paid better than his brother, a fact he loved rubbing in Malik's face over and over. Of course the reason for being paid better than his brother was the hard cold truth that Malik wasn't even supposed to be a monster hunter, since the position was reserved usually for the male children, excluding the oldest, of the Auditore family. The reason they were picked for the training was Malik beating the living daylights out of Ezio when all three were still children.

The only person in the entire world who would actually be in some bizarre way rewarded for being a mean dickhead was his brother. His brother had claimed at the time that he had done it to protect Kadar, but he knew better. He knew that his brother possessed a downright evil side to his personality, which sometimes even scared Kadar himself, because in those times he had no idea who this vengeful being claiming to be his brother was.

He stopped to say hello to a courtesan, who he might or might not have associated once or twice. He received a hello back and she even blew a kiss in the air. It was nice. He was still angry at his brother though.

Malik thought he couldn't handle himself, which was load of bullshit. He hated when his brother thought he was made out of glass and might break from the slightest impact. He knew better though; he was a _guard_ after all. He carried a sword and wore more armor than his brother did. He knew for a fact that he was physically stronger than his brother was. He was after all taller and broader, which he knew annoyed Malik to no end.

There was also the fact that Kadar had been trained to fight humans, while Malik knew only how to fight monsters of various kinds. So there was no reason for his brother to attempt to avoid all the sparring with him, because as far as he knew they were very evenly matched. He might even have some advantages over his older brother.

But his brother had decided to spar with Ezio, as if they didn't spent enough time together as it was due to their shared profession. Then again, he could at least enjoy seeing Ezio beat his brother up, which would be very amusing, though Malik might turn out to beat Ezio, which would be less amusing.

Kadar shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts of his pigheaded brother. He was standing at the back door to Leonardo's workshop, the very same door where all of his memories started all those years ago. He and his brother had washed up here from somewhere, but didn't know whence or how they had ended there.

They had remembered only their given names, not their surnames. He remembered being very confused about everything, his brother being the only thing that made any sense in the whole world. Everything else had been big, scary, and strange all at the same time. Everyone had thought they would regain their memories in time, but they just did not, as if that mattered now, since their entire lives were dedicated to this place.

Kadar thought himself to be an Italian. He talked like an Italian, liked Italian cuisine and loved the country like an Italian, despite obviously being of an Arabian descent with his black hair and dark skin. His brother however for some bizarre reason talked with an accent and seemed to revel in being an outsider, making him even more antisocial than all of his horrible character qualities already made him. It was as if Malik didn't even want to fit.

Kadar had reached a conclusion ages ago wherein the only saving grace his brother had was his talent for inflicting injury and his smarts. He remembered Leonardo sitting them both down for lessons in reading, writing, math, and other subjects and hating them, while his brother had an expression of utter concentration on his face. He had found it difficult to sit down for long periods of time when he could be wooing girls with Ezio or spying on some unwitting passerby with Claudia.

Nowadays it seemed the only times he could find Malik not ready to murder someone was when he was working with his brain, whether it was cartography, which was a subject Kadar just didn't understand the appeal at all, or reading a book. All the other times his brother acted reclusive, mean or just downright antisocial with an increasing frequency, making him worried and angry at his brother. But mainly just angry, there was no way he was worried too much, just angry.

Kadar entered the workshop. He was welcomed by the familiar smell of drying paint, ink, and Leonardo's quiet snoring. The inventor had fallen asleep while working on a contraption Kadar could not figure out for the life of him, but it did involve something that looked suspiciously like bat wings made out of cloth and wood. Leonardo probably had not slept during the night, being way too engrossed in his work to remember to sleep or eat, which was something he remembered vividly from his childhood as well.

Leonardo had been his and Malik's caretaker, even though it often felt like they had been taking care of the genius instead. But it had all been good, Leonardo was the kindest person Kadar knew, even if the man knew very little of how to raise children. He and his brother had been left to their own devices for the most part, which had somehow made his older brother feel responsible for him in every conceivable way.

Kadar found a quilt laying on a tiny sofa in the back of the workshop, which he decided to throw on the inventor. There really was no reason to wake him up because his business with Leonardo was not that urgent anyway. Instead he decided, for the lack of anything better to do, to inspect the paintings, which the artist always had several in progress, for any interesting ones. There were a few paintings of horses but there always were, since the man was practically obsessed with them. Kadar appreciated pictures of beautiful ladies with preferably little clothing on them, but this time around there were none to be found.

He then moved onto looking at all the gadgets laying around in various states of completion. This too was something he was very familiar with. Leonardo was very enthusiastic when starting various projects, whether it was art or engineering, but finishing them was completely different thing. He often left several promising ideas half finished, while completing something else with no relevance to anything whatsoever.

But there were also times when the inventor actually managed to complete something revolutionary, which Kadar guessed was what kept the money coming. Leonardo didn't really care about money; as long as he had the materials for his projects he was happy, even if Kadar had seen Malik trying to lecture the inventor on the importance of a steady income more times he could even count. Every time he caught his brother giving a lecture to the inventor, who for the lack of better wording looked like a kicked puppy, Kadar felt shame on behalf of his brother. The inventor had managed to get by just fine for all of his life, so who was Malik to give him any lectures, even if it was just his brother's awkward way of showing he cared.

In the end he decided to sit on the sofa to wait for either the inventor to wake up or for his brother to show up. But after sitting still for a while, he was bored of listening to the sounds of the outside world, which just acted as a reminder to him that could be out there doing all kinds of much more interesting things. He wasn't Malik; he actually wanted to live the life a young man like his brother should too. In fact he felt like he was obliged to go out there, which he then did. Maybe today was his lucky day. Maybe today he would meet the perfect girl and maybe the girl would be impressed by his handsome looks and charming personality.

Yes, today he definitely was going to woo a girl. He decided he didn't give a damn about his miserable brother or his wayward inventor friend.

* * *

Ezio was itching for a fight. Not just for any fight, but a proper duel that would challenge him for longer than two minutes. The man he was waiting for to appear in the practice ring at the west side of the villa could give him such fight. He had not had a chance to flex his muscles in weeks, since even the succubus threat in the brothel had ended up being a jealous customer spreading rumours. He did enjoy the 'challenge' of researching the case though because after all there was just no other way for him to find out if there actually was a succubus except to try all the girls out. He grinned to himself at the thought of his 'explorations'.

"With that amount of smugness, I do think you are indeed in a need of a good beating, Ezio." Ezio heard from somewhere behind him the voice and accent he was familiar with. Why his friend spoke with an accent he never could figure out, but it didn't matter much to him. He turned around to face his friend, who just so happened to be facing him with the setting sun behind his back, making it necessary for Ezio to squint his eyes. That bastard.

"Malik." The other hunter crossed his arms while obviously trying to pass some silent judgement on Ezio. The two of them stayed silent just staring at each other for a while. This Ezio knew was already part of the fight, a part he didn't really enjoy, but a part his friend loved to play since he knew it would rile him up faster than any taunt.

"Are you two going to just stare each other to death? Or are you actually going to spar?" a third voice entered the conversation. This voice belonged to Malik's younger brother Kadar.

"No," Malik beat him to it. Always so fast with his words, especially when angered as Ezio had come to know during the years he had known the man. He had afterall made friends with him after having his ass handed to him, not that he would admit it aloud to anyone. Malik was as good at inflicting hurt and injury with his words as Ezio was charming with them, a skill the girls appreciated more than his fighting provess. It also helped that he looked absolutely dashing and there was no shame admitting it to himself.

"No bombs, daggers, crossbows or anything else. Just blunted practice swords and fists? How about it, yes?" Ezio punctuated his words by throwing his gear to the side of the practice yard. Blunted swords still hurt like a bitch when being struck by a direct blow, which Ezio was sure there would be a few of in this fight.

"Fine," Malik said while moving to take off his gear. It wasn't enough for the two of them to just agree not to use the other equipment; they actually had to actually take them off because they might accidentally reach for them reflexively. Utilizing them in afight had been driven into them so hard it came as second nature. Despite his confidence in his abilities, Ezio knew it would be really a bad thing to be hit with a bomb straight to his face, which was a trick Malik often used when fighting creatures.

He then picked up two practice swords from a wooden crate at the side of the area. He threw one at his friend, who caught it with practised ease and took a few swings at the air. Facing each other they positioned themselves in the ring opposite each other.

Ezio took an offensive stance and Malik took a defensive one. Ezio knew it was a trick to lure him into attacking first and to use his momentum against him, but he made the first move anyway. He just couldn't wait any longer for this fight to begin. So he rushed forward aiming for his friend's shoulder, and just as he had predicted Malik changed his stance at the last second, swaying his upper body to the side to avoide his blade. However Ezio's left arm was free to go for a disarming move.

But just as Ezio was about to either be hit in his stomach, or perform a succesful disarming, Malik dropped to the ground and rolled backwards, putting more distance between the could practically feel the adrenaline surging through his veins slowing the world down to an almost sluggish pace. He looked Malik in the eye and saw a challenge burning in them. This had been only a test to see if he was still sharp. He couldn't help but grin when he saw his opponent drop into a very aggressive stance and look cool as ice. The signs were either very good or very bad. Today Ezio decided they were a very good because he wanted to beat someone up so badly.

This round they both moved at the same time and clashed in the middle of the ring. Ezio managed to breach his opponent's defences and was about to land a hit to his upper body, but the damn bugger twisted his body out of the way like a snake, followed by an attempt to circle him to land a blow to his unguarded ribs, which Ezio managed to block at the last second.

The stalemate kept on going for what seemed like hours, but was probably more like ten minutes before Ezio finally managed to land a blow. It wasn't with his sword, but with his left fist connecting with an uppercut to Malik's jaw, which must have rattled the man's brain, since the impact sent him to the dirt. To his benefit, he did recover very quickly by rolling backwards effectively evading the wild sword swing Ezio had followed his punch with.

Ezio's sword hit the dirt and he cursed the weigth he had put behind his swing because he almost toppled over. He recovered as quickly as he could, but didn't see his opponent anywhere. It was annoying despite all the satisfaction hitting the man squarely in the jaw had given him, because apparently he had not hit hard enough, judging by Malik's swiftness.

That train of thought lasted until he tried turning around just to have his legs swept from under him. However before he could react in any way, the world went black.

* * *

"You are fucked up in the head, brother."

Malik turned around to face his brother who had said the words while sitting on his bed looking very condemning. His own face was swollen on the right side where Ezio had hit him, making him lose consciousness and attempting a proper scowl made him wince.

"I can not help my instincts," he shrugged, which was true but not the whole truth. He had nearly killed his friend earlier that day; the only thing saving him from doing so had been pure luck. The last part of the fight was a fuzz in his mind, which he could have blamed on blacking out momentarily, but how does one explain the very real feeling of being impaled through the chest when they were actually being punched in the face? The feeling had woken something in him Malik had no idea how to describe, something that mixed fear, rage and bloodlust and was not completely unwelcome. It wasn't the usual battle high he experienced when fighting monsters. No this was related to the fact that he had been fighting a human being, which was terrifying to say the least.

"Do your oh so great hunter instincts also tell you to smile creepily while beating your friend senseless?"

"Ezio is not some defenseless damsel. He knocked me unconscious for a while as well and afterwards attempted to slice me in half. He did so with a smile," he retorted, while cursing himself for showing so much emotion during the sparring. He had felt exhilirated until the point Ezio punched the lights out of him.

"True. He isn't, but I still think you went overboard," Kadar seemed to be insisting just for the sake of insisting.

"Did you ask Ezio's opinion on the matter or are you just passing judgement on me, just because you can?" Malik snapped throwing his arms dramatically in the air. He felt already confused enough with all kinds of feelings inside his head he didn't know how to deal with, even without his own brother passing judgement from some moral high ground he supposedly had.

"I actually did. He laughed at me and said it was all in good sport, but we aren't talking about Ezio here. We are talking about you," Kadar said while narrowing his eyes and pointing his finger at Malik.

"And what about me? There is nothing to talk about. In fact I have all of these maps here, which need to be completed and you sitting there nagging at me is not helping in any way. If any -"

"Yes that's exactly it!" his brother interrupted. "The only thing you do these days is sit inside these walls drawing maps or whatever and when you don't it's chasing after some monster in the woods. The only time I've seen you for months doing anything else is when you decide to beat up your friend to near to death. It's like you are avoiding people on purpose!" Kadar all but shouted at him.

"You know that is not true. I saw Leonardo just yesteday," he attempted to counter.

"Leonardo doesn't count and you know it." It was true, since Malik considered Leonardo to be part of his family.

"I need to stay up nights and sleep during the days; having social contacts on top of that is very difficult. I never was the most social person to begin with. This I admit," Malik defended himself while attempting to stay calm, which he knew he was failing.

"Ezio manages just fine."

"Ezio is a manwhore," Malik retorted, making Kadar snort. He knew he had won this round of arguments.

"I still wish you would socialise more. I think it would do you good to find yourself a woman and fall in love. Maybe spending so much time with only with other men has made you forget how to have other emotions besides anger." The statement made Malik cringe, but not for the reason his brother probably thought.

"And I think your head is full of fluff. Besides I heard from Leonardo that you have not had so much luck with love either. What was the name of the girl again? Katelyn, Katlyn? No, it was Katerina, who slapped you in the face by the well," he teased and the reaction Kadar had was so very precious with his face turning red.

"What?! No! Why do you know that?" Kadar burst with his eyes wide open from disbelief and embarrasment.

"Unlike what you seem to think about me, I actually do pay attention to the actions of my family members. Also I think you would have better chance at wooing Claudia anyways."

"I can't do that! Claudia's not just my best friend, but also my employer," Kadar answered and just like that Malik had turned the discussion from himself into his brother's messy love affairs and to the latest gossip his brother had heard from Claudia. Malik knew his brother couldn't stay angry for extended periods of time, which made him extremely easy to distract.

They kept their banter going until it was so late Kadar had to leave to catch some sleep before his guard shift started in the morning. This gave Malik the time to concentrate on his efforts in cartography – a trade he had learnt the basics of from Leonardo, who had not only noticed his penchant for mathematics, but also his good memory and had taught him the necessary skills. He loved making maps from the beginning, which had driven him to improve on his skills, which now exceeded by far those of his teacher. Leonardo a genius, but he rarely was patient enough to perfect anything, well except maybe horses.

Cartography worked like meditation for Malik in the sense that he could forget all of his inner turmoil while calculating, measuring, and drawing lines on paper. Besides, he was being paid for them which made the work all the more satisfying. His brother never understood the finer points of using quill and ink to create something, but his brother was always more of a man of action. It wasn't like Malik himself didn't enjoy the physical side of things, but he liked to think he knew how to combine both of them.

He worked in peace and quiet in the dim light of several candles surrounding his desk for several hours until someone knocked on his door. Before he could call the person in, the door opened revealing Ezio looking surprisingly orderly considering he had lost a fight just few hours back. In fact Malik was sure he himself looked much worse with his swollen jaw and cheek compared to Ezio who sported only a bruise on his forehead.

Hello Ezio," Malik greeted.

"Hello Malik, my friend. You really gave me a run for my money earlier," Ezio joked light-heartedly.

"If so, where is that money?" Malik quipped, earning himself a laugh from Ezio. For a while he had been worried that maybe he had somehow hurt his relationship with Ezio since Kadar's reaction had been of considerable size. But he should have trusted his gut on this, which told him Ezio knew exactly what he was getting himself into. They were both dangerous men. Ezio was just better at hiding the fact behind his outgoing façade.

"All joking aside, we were summoned. Both of us, so it must be something big, my friend," Ezio said airily. The Italian slapped Malik in the back almost violently, making him drop the quill in his hand. Malik sighed and turned around to cork his inkwell so the precious substance would not dry.

"Let us go then," Malik said. Ezio nodded in return. They walked out of Malik's chambers into Giovanni Auditore's office in a companionable silence. There was little need for words after their exchange earlier in the practice ring, leaving a feeling of mutual respect between them.

"Good morning, boys," the older Auditore greeted while gesturing grandly with his arms. They both greeted the man in return, Malik doing soa in a manner much more polite than Ezio, who was standing next to him with an impatient pose.

"I heard you had quite the spar last evening. A shame I didn't have the chance to see it." Suddenly Malik was all too aware of his swollen jaw, making him grimace and subsequently wince. Ezio gave him an amused look. The bastard had noticed his discomfort, but then again of course he would, he was Ezio. Similarly to Kadar he seemed to exist solely for the purpose of making his life miserable.

"But as you may have guessed, I didn't ask you here to discuss your sparring match. There has been word from Venice, where something has crawled out of the swamps and is now killing people. At first it was people who had been wandering the swamps during the nights, but now the killings happen even within the city. You need to go and dispatch the thing."

"Is there more information. I would really like to know what awaits us, so we could prepare accordingly," Malik asked just in case Giovanni had forgotten something, but he already knew that was unlikely.

"I'm sorry to say, but that is all we know. It could be anything from a demon possessed frog to a full-grown swampa monster or a water hag, which is why I'm sending both of you. You should depart as soon as possible, preferably this afternoon, so we can get this over with. Federico is currently in Venice doing some family business; you may stay with him until the mission is completed. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Malik answered and turned to leave with Ezio on his heels. He felt Ezio throw his arm around his shoulder, which he shrugged away without a word.

"It has been a while since we have gone for a hunt together. I hope you can still keep up with me, so I don't have to rescue you while taking all the glory for myself," Ezio teased and winked at Malik.

"The day I need to be rescued by you is the day I will voluntarily cut off one of my arms, which is never." The Italian just laughed at that and threw his arm over Malik's shoulder for the second time and this time around Malik tolerated the action.

"I will see you at the stable, yes?" Ezio asked playfully. Malik just nodded, before they parted ways only to meet again later on.


	3. Monster in the swamp part 2

It had taken them five days to reach Venice. They had been lucky, not being attacked by monsters or bandits prowling the roads, which were an increasing problem during daylight hours the farther away they were from any major settlements. They kept to routine of moving from evening until dawn and sleeping during the day, which meant they had to look for shade to avoid being burnt to crisp during the hot midday sun.

When they did finally reach the city, they more than welcomed the lodgings Federico provided them, which were meagre, but infinitely better than sleeping in the shade of a rock while pretending the one quilt underneath was softening the ground in any way. It was also nice to have someone else to talk to besides themselves because after two days of spending in each others constant companionship the two men had exhausted all their conversations to the point of ' _oh look a pretty woman'_ and ' _sure is'_ or better yet _'the weather is really nice'_ and ' _true'._

The thing was, Malik had already figured out years ago that while they were friends, he and Ezio didn't really share many interests outside of violence, which on most of the days was just fine. But while travelling for long periods of time together, violence wasn't really an option if they wanted to reach their destination on time, or even in one piece. Ezio enjoyed flirting with anything with two legs, whether that was a chicken, a ladder, or a woman - it didn't matter, whereas Malik spent his time observing the world, mentally mapping everything from the placement of the trees to the bends in the rivers. So in short, he and Ezio were very different people, which while not necessarily a bad thing, made things at times difficult during long journeys.

Then there was Venice, a city made out of canals, which smelled terribly after spending so much time in the countryside in Monteriggioni. People insisted the city was romantic, but all Malik could think of was the smell of faeces and rotting fish, and he couldn't decide which was worse than the other. He had been to Venice before, in fact he had drawn a few maps of the city, but somehow the smell was always just as nasty a surprise as ever. Kadar should be grateful there was never any need for him to leave Monteriggioni, but no, his little brother insisted on being jealous of his unfortunate tours across Italy in search of deadly monsters.

"So how long are you going to stay and are you going to keep up that ridiculous sleeping schedule the entire time?" Federico asked them over dinner, in an obvious attempt to rile his little brother up. Federico Auditore wasn't trained in monster hunting, but it didn't mean he wasn't aware of the reasons for their daily routines. Federico was to inherit all the Auditore fortune and power after Giovanni, which meant that dying while hunting for some monster was a very bad thing.

"I hope not too long, my brother, and yes we are going to be sleeping in the usual way," Ezio answered surprisingly civil.

"As the monster moves around during the night, so do we," Malik supplied.

"A shame. The women of Venice are something to behold, but I guess you won't have the chance to enjoy their company," Federico leered while plastering a smirk on his face, gaining an instant reaction from Ezio who in turn frowned hard. Malik rolled his eyes.

"A shame indeed, brother. That you should have such an ugly face no woman would look at it." This time around it was Federico who visibly tensed looking ready to fight. The only thing keeping the older brother from lunging over the table was probably the fear of Ezio's fists connecting with his face. Malik couldn't understand the Auditore family dynamics most days, but then there were days like these when the brothers had some sort of imaginary manliness competition going on, and then he really didn't understand them.

They finished eating in relative peace. No punches were thrown and no insults spoken, though the atmosphere stayed volatile. They uttered their thank yous, before heading out to research their target.

"I think we should split up," Ezio said abruptly while shifting his weight from one leg to another looking uncomfortable.

"Why?" Malik questioned with suspicion.

"We cover more ground that way. Then meet up in the morning back at Federico's place." The reasoning was sound but the way it was delivered sounded out of place to Malik's ear. The Italian must have had some ulterior motive.

"How can I be sure you are not just going to end up fooling around in some whore house?" It wasn't much of a question, but more of an accusation.

"They are brothels, Malik my friend. Not whore houses. And have I ever fooled around while on the job?" Ezio's attempt to sound flabbergasted was a terrible one.

"Actually, yes you have. Several times in fact. Also, brothels and whore houses are the same thing," Malik argued, while scowling hard.

"It is not very nice to call them whore houses, now is it, my friend? But seriously, I wouldn't leave you alone to do all the research, now would I? You are my best friend after all." All of them empty words Malik knew and all of them had happened in the past as well, but he also knew he was going to give in because Ezio would find his way to try out the Venetian women one way or the other.

"Fine. Let us split up. I have a map here, so we can distribute the area equally to both of us." He saw a smug smirk cross Ezio's face the moment the words left his mouth, but chose to ignore it in favour of drawing a faint line with a charcoal on the map. He explained how to proceed the most efficient way through the city into the swamps itself.

"Right," the Italian sounded and looked confused at his explanation, but it didn't really matter since the only thing being explored by Ezio's that night was the depth of his coin purse and maybe a nice pair of tits. Malik sighed and berated himself mentally for being way too lenient.

"Unfortunately I do not have a second map with me, but you can have this one since I remember the area by memory," which he did. He could, in fact, remember several other Italian cities with ease as well, including some he had never even physically visited.

"You are not just trying to slink out of doing your part, are you my friend," Ezio teased good naturedly. Malik tightened his expression.

"No. I am not you Ezio. Besides, I drew the map; I ought to remember what it looks like," Malik scoffed. Truth to be told, he wasn't so much against the idea of parting with Ezio, because he had spent enough time with the man to last a lifetime, as much as he knew he would end up doing all the research all by himself. He wondered what he had done to to deserve being surrounded by such manipulators like Kadar and Ezio.

Ezio slapped Malik in the back, which he responded to by glaring daggers at the man. Then they parted ways, each on their own endeavours or rather Ezio would find the nearest whore house, while Malik would try to learn all about this swamp monster. 'What a great deal,' he thought to himself, while rolling his eyes at his own idiocy.

Malik didn't stay in the city, but made it to the outskirts where the swamps were. It also smelled considerably less awful there, though the distinctive pungent earthen smell of swamp was noticeable. There were very few people there, all of whom were completely clueless about the monster looming in the swamp, which was both annoying and unhelpful.

He attempted to look for more physical evidence of the monster to help him figure out the type of creature they were dealing problem was of course that the swamp tended to either swallow everything whole or there was nothing to leave trails on. But after a while of wandering around, with his boots being considerably more soggy than they had been before entering the swamp, he found the dead body of a man in his thirties.

He crouched down to examine the body. The man had been killed cleanly. None of his clothes were torn nor was there any blood to be seen, which made no sense whatsover since the body lacked both arms, which had presumably been eaten. He frowned while trying to wrack his brain. He then noticed something conspicuous at the man's neck so he turned the man's head slightly sideways and sure enough there were two puncture marks right on top of the jugular.

Malik's brain started running at the speed of a hundred galloping horses, with the possibilities, but he could reach only a certain one and several not so certain ones. His eyes widened with the realisation, making him gasp audibly:

"A vampire," is somewhere in this city. But vampires didn't eat body parts; they only went for the blood. So where the arms were, was the question he asked himself when he stood up back to his full height. Malik realised it was a really bad thing to be here alone without Ezio, but not just that, actually it was a really bad thing for Ezio to be alone as well, if there was a vampire skulking in the city. He forced himself to calm down, becaue it wouldn't help him in the slightest.

He looked around scanning the area for the missing limbs. He couldn't find any, but what he did find was more corpses missing various body parts. All of them had bite marks, except for the one without a head, though it was safe to assume the person had suffered the same fate as the others. So he turned around with the intentions of returning to the city, but was stopped in his tracks by his boot sticking to the mud. He was beginning to feel the familiar feeling of anger heating his skin up while he attempted to extract his foot from the mud, but his outburst was disrupted by a huge bird of prey landing on the corpse.

A golden eagle had landed on a human corpse maybe 20 meters away from him and all Malik could think was, 'how bizarre, aren't those day animals'. The eagle looked straight at him with its golden eagle eyes and he realised he was, for once, looking at a mere animal, not a demon in disguise. The eagle had just found an easy meal and was now enjoying it. Whether the eagle could have ripped apart the corpses or not was the question that came to his mind, but he dismissed the idea when he looked at how the bird extracted relatively tiny pieces off the corpse.

He managed to release his foot and boot from the confines of the mud with a sickening slurping sound. Malik left the eagle to enjoy its nightly meal, his head filled with various hypotheses of two different monsters, one of which was a vampire and one undefined monster living in the swamp eating the carcasses left by the vampire, but possibly also killing on its own.

He continued his journey back to the city as gracefully as a person with wet and muddy boots ever could. He stuck to the most populated areas of the city, which was something he usually tried to avoid, but in a situation like this it was the best course of action. However at this time of the night there wasn't much of anything else roaming the streets except for drunkards, so he changed his plans and took to the roofs to avoid the unwanted attention he was given at the street level. The roofs provided him unobstructed view if something should approach him and it smelled less awful there, which was always nice.

He made quick progress back to Federico's place. He hoped Ezio had made it back already but if he had not he would have to find the hunter as soon as possible, so he dropped to the balcony leading inside the house. His boots sloshed uncomfortably when they hit the floor, making him frown at them, as if the boots were somehow offending him.

The house was empty save for Federico's snoring coming from one of the rooms. Malik decided quickly that he needed to know where Ezio was more than Federico needed to sleep so he barged in waking up the sleeping man.

"What is the most likely brothel Ezio would go," Malik demanded of the half awakened man still lying on the bed.

"Huh?! What?! One with women in it?" was the unintelligible answer he was given. Malik narrowed his eyes in frustration.

"Like there were any other kinds of whore houses. Think Federico. This is serious," Malik attempted quite literally to squeeze the answer out of the man at this point. At this the older man seemed to sober up considerably.

"Any brothel that is not a complete shit hole. He has some standards, albeit not very high ones." With that Malik was out of the door leaving one very confused looking Federico Auditore behind. He would have to find Ezio as soon as possible because a vampire was just way too much for a lone hunter, especially if that lone hunter wasn't even aware of the possible threat.

Vampires were not like other monsters because they could blend with humans easily and were intelligent. Normally the height of monster intelligency was reached when facing demons of various kinds, but even then they were surprisingly easy to tell apart from humans. Vampires on the other hand could move like humans, talk like humans, look like humans, and fake human emotions even though they were just as bloodthirsty as other monsters with terrifying powers unrivalled in many ways. It wouldn't be much of stretch to say vampires were the worst kind of monsters to exist.

Malik had not managed to make it very far when he spotted Ezio walking nonchalantly with a smug smile on his face towards him. He sighed in relief, since at least he was now excused from having to skim through every whore house in the city like he originally thought he would have to.

"Ezio. We have problem in our hands," Malik said with a serious tone while turning to fall into step with the other hunter.

"No my friend, I think the problem is more in your feet," Ezio joked playfully while pointing at Malik's soaked feet. To Ezio's benefit, his boots _did_ look terrible.

"This is no time for jokes. There is a vampire loose in the city," he snapped incredulously and then proceeded to whack Ezio on the shoulder.

"I know," the Italian said while wearing possibly the most complacent grin Malik had ever seen. Malik then broke into a tirade since he was the one who had actually done all the work after all.

"While you were whoring around I actually- " Malik stopped mid sentence to take a hard look at his friend. Ezio seemed way too conspicuously innocent. He then questioned suspiciously,

"How do you know that?" narrowing his eyes to examine Ezio's face for any trace of a lie.

"You assume that all I ever do is have sex. I should be offended, my friend," the other hunter said with a voice full of fake hurt. Ezio thought he had bested him in this, making the bastard gloat, but Malik wasn't without ammunition either.

"There is a very good reason for that. Besides, you have a hickey." He enjoyed seeing the Italian visibly flinch, with his right hand instantaneously reaching for his neck to cover the mark.

"So how do you know there is a vampire in the city?" Malik demanded with the newly found inner peace the satisfaction embarrassing Ezio brought him.

"I went to talk with the guard captain since the barracks were located in my part of the map. I asked if they had a list of missing people or confirmed kills by the swamp monster. Most of the people who have gone missing or are confirmed dead were known criminals, madmen or other outcasts of society," Ezio explained calmly while gesturing with his hands to accentuate his points.

By then they had reached Federico's place, continuing their conversation while sitting at the kitchen table. Malik was attempting to rid himself of the soggy boots while making faces at them.

"That is way too intelligent for a simple swamp monster or even any kind of demon," Malik concluded after listening to Ezio's story, trying to clean his boots from the mud covering them at the same time.

"Yes it is, my friend. But how do you know our swamp monster is a vampire?" Ezio asked. Malik stopped cleaning his boots to look Ezio in the eyes, just to make sure his friend was listening to him.

"The swamp monster is not the vampire, but there is a monster in the swamps eating the bodies the vampire leaves behind. I found a body in the outskirts of the city with two puncture marks in the neck and missing both arms. No blood trail to be seen, no bruises, clothes intact, and I could not find the missing arms, which I assume were eaten. The corpse was not bloated and did not have rigor mortis set in, so the kill must have been fresh. Then I found even more bodies – all of them missing body parts."

Ezio looked at Malik funnily for a while, before snorting in an attempt to stifle a laugh.

"Your mean face scared the monster away. I am not sure if I should be impressed or not," Ezio sniggered, while wiping his eyes in a dramatic manner as if to wipe tears from them.

"You are an imbecile."

They kept their conversation going until the dawn. They talked strategies against both the vampire and the yet undiscovered swamp monster, if they even should go after one of them or both of them. Bouncing ideas until sleeping was the only thing both had in their minds.

* * *

That day Malik dreamt of flying. He flew high up in the air above a city he had never seen before and couldn't recognise from any of the maps he had ever seen or drawn. It was a very vivid dream set in the dead of the night, but he still could see the outlines of the buildings clearly as if it was a day. The buildings were mostly brown-colored, one-or-two-storied simple things. There were a few people occasionally walking the streets and guards patrolling the streets and a occasionally a light would flicker somewhere, indicating a presence of a late-night worker perhaps.

Sometimes he would glance at his side while gliding, seeing his own set of strong wings occasionally flapping through the air, but also a golden eagle flying next to him, the tips of their wings at times grazing each other's. The eagle would look back at him with piercing golden eyes, before setting his eyes forward. He himself would have sharp talons, which he curled under his body into the thick feather coat. The sensation of air brushing against his feathers felt amazing, like a tender touch cool against skin. He felt so free, so happy and so intoxicated on life.

The dream was unbelievable, but still felt every bit as real as anything he had ever felt as if it wasn't a dream but a memory. The feeling was the same as those post battle flashes he experienced, just much longer and more detailed.

He woke up soaked up in sweat and confused. He could remember everything about the dream in excruciating detail, down to the point of being easily able to draw a map of the city he had seen. All of it made his head hurt. He attempted to ease his headache by massaging his temples with his fingers. The hurt eased slightly but the disconnection to reality he was having did not.

He decided he needed fresh air to clear his head, to contemplate things alone. He grabbed his boots, which were still damp from the previous night's adventures in the swamp, but pulled them on anyway despite the discomfort. The boots were followed by the rest of his clothes, the cloak and weaponry.

Then he exited the house through the balcony. Climbing the building was easy despite the moisture gathered on every surface. It was raining and the roof was slippery, so he pulled up the hood of his cloak to shield himself from the raindrops. The sky was grey making the city feel gloomy and dirty. He had thought the the rain might have wash away the smells, but it was considerably worse than it had been the previous day.

Malik heard footsteps approaching him. He turned to see Ezio approach him with his hood also pulled up waving his hand in a greeting. Malik turned back to watch the city ignoring the other hunter, but he knew Ezio had come to stand next to him as the sound of leather boots against the roof stopped. The sound of rain came muffled through his hood.

"How is it that the city manages to smell even worse today than it did the day before," Malik asked after while, wringing his nose in disgust.

"What are you talking about, my friend?" Ezio answered clueless. Malik looked at the Italian with disbelief.

"The city smells of rotting fish and faeces. It is nauseating."

"It does no such thing. If I take a really, really deep breath I can smell only a bit of garbage floating in the canals, but not shit or dead fish, my friend," Ezio said while looking slightly concerned and to punctuate his point took a deep breath through his nose. Malik was beginning to feel very uncomfortable for reasons he wasn't even sure of himself. Maybe he was too stressed out from the threat of the vampire, making him overreact to things. As if he would admit something like that aloud to anyone.

"Why are we talking about this?" Malik asked slightly annoyed.

"I do not know. You tell me, my friend. You started the conversation," Ezio answered neutrally. Malik didn't answer but remained quiet, observing the rain.

"I think we should sent a pigeon back to Monteriggioni," Malik said after a considerable amount of silence.

"Why?" Ezio questioned clearly unhappy.

"Because there are two monsters instead of the one we were sent after. One of which is considerably more dangerous than anything either of us has ever faced before. That is why," Malik explained as if he was talking to a simpleton.

"We are perfectly able to kill one vampire with both of us working together and the swamp monster, whatever it may be won't be much of a challenge after that. The thing is eating carcasses, what kind of monster eats carcasses instead of killing on its own?" Ezio stopped, but just as Malik was about to open his mouth he continued,

"A weak one. A weak monster sits in the swamps and waits for vampire to throw crumbs at it. We do not need my father's approval for this," the Italian nearly shouted while his hands made wild motions in the air. It took about two seconds for Malik to process the entirety of Ezio's outburst, before realizing this wasn't really about the monster at all. This was about Ezio's need to prove himself in some inane way only an Auditore could think of.

"So you want to brave the swamp today in search of a monster lurking in there?" Malik asked attempting to keep his tone neutral.

"Yes!" was the immediate, yet clearly agitated answer.

"You realise with all this rain the ground will be so soggy we will be literally knee deep in it. How do you reckon fighting when every step is a struggle to free your feet?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"It can not be that bad. I will figure out something on the go," the Italian defended himself. Malik rolled his eyes in response at the stupidity of the statement.

"It really is that bad. I actually went to the swamp yesterday, yet managed to have one of my feet stuck to the mud. Now it is raining; how do you imagine things will be?" he kept lecturing. Ezio was clearly sulking now with his head cast down towards the roof underneath his feet.

"Fine. We will wait out the rain, but we won't involve my father in this," Ezio said with a tone of finality in his statement leaving no room for negotiating.

"Fine. I guess I can live with that," Malik sighed already regretting everything he had ever done or would do that had lead until this point of his life. Ezio turned around to leave the roof.

"See you later, Malik," and with that the Italian jumped down the roof leaving Malik alone to his own musings. But when he turned around to begin staring at the same spot on the opposite roof, he had been staring at previously, he saw an eagle sitting on one of the chimneys preening like it was a normal thing to do.

He looked at the bird dumbstruck. The sight was an absurd one. Here in the middle of a bustling city, was a golden eagle sitting on a chimney like a carrier pigeon. Something fishy must have been at play for him to spot a bird like that twice in such a short amount of time, but no matter how much he tried to find anything out of place on the eagle, he could not.

The eagle stopped cleaning itself and looked him straight in the eye, making him recall the dream he had had. They were the same eyes he had seen in the dream. Shivers ran down his spine. Then the bird cocked its head to the side as if it had heard something, effectively breaking the eye contact. Then the eagle spread its massive wings and took to the air, leaving Malik with a bucketful of feelings he didn't know what to do with.

* * *

The following evening when Ezio stepped alongside with Malik to the swamps, he was beginning to regret his haste to fight the swamp monster. The ground really was soggy even after the rain had eased and eventually stopped, but the ground had not had enough time to absorb the additional water load of in it. Ezio could practically feel the stitching of his boots straining to keep the water outside. He cringed hard when the muddy water finally breached through his left boot.

The other hunter was walking as if the conditions weren't affecting him any way, but Ezio knew it was just Malik being a stubborn ass, so he did the only sane thing he could think of and was stubborn as well. Then again, he should be looking for signs of the swamp monster, not whining about his boots.

They had been walking around the swamp without finding even a hint of any kind of monster, when they finally found a corpse. The problem was they had found their swamp monster along with the corpse. It wasn't a swamp monster though. It was a fiend and a well-fed fiend at that.

They ducked behind a rock quickly before the creature would notice them. This needed a bit more strategy than 'whack it until it stops moving'. Ezio looked at Malik pointedly, but the other hunter turned to take a peek at the feasting fiend. He could practically hear the gears turning in his friend's head and for once he was thankful for Malik's presence, since out of anyone it would be he who could cook up a plan to fight a fiend on the spot.

Ezio dared a look at the monster which was now gorging on the intestines of the poor man or a woman who had fallen victim to either to the fiend or the vampire. The creature's elk-esque antlers had pieces of moss and fern dangling from them and it's brown fur was covered in mud. The sound of its sharp teeth grinding flesh from bone was nightmare inducing.

Malik nudged him slightly in the side, with a look that told him the man had devised a plan.

"We need to lure it to more solid ground if we wish to stand a chance, where we need to set up entrapment wards to immobilise it. That way we gain an advance over it. We need to keep our distance, so throw bombs and use your crossbow. We can not get close to it, because despite its size it is faster than either of us and ten times more powerful. Only after it has been weakened enough, may we go after it with swords." Malik explained in low whispers, which to Ezio's ear sounded good.

"Which one of us sets ups the trap?" Ezio asked quietly.

"You do it. I weigh less than you do, so I am less likely to have my feet stuck in mud while acting as the bait. Besides your grasp on the magic has always been better than mine." Ezio knew must have been a hard thing for Malik to admit, especially judging from the sour expression the man was wearing, but now wasn't the time to gloat. He simply nodded in response.

"Let us do this then, my friend," Ezio said with mirth in his voice. He gave Malik a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, put on his best smirk, and headed off to set up the wards. 'This is going to be so good,' he thought while stalking through the swamp in search of dryer land. Finally there was something truly challenging to fight instead of the endless swarms of demon-infested animals eating chickens and upsetting peasants.

He managed to find a clearing not too far away where he could set up his wards. Five wards should do the trick for this one, so he set up all of them except for the one he kept for himself, which he would use when the fiend entered the area enclosed by them. He took a quick look around him, making sure the wards were spaced out evenly before whistling loudly for Malik to make a move.

He stepped to the side, readying a bomb to his left hand while holding the remaining ward with his right one. Sure enough, shortly after he could hear an explosion go off, followed by quickening footsteps making loud noises against the soaked ground and an ear shattering roar. Ezio could hear his own pulse hammering anxiously through his chest with adrenaline surging through his veins making him feel giddy and light in his feet.

Then Malik appeared with the fiend in tow rampaging through the swamp attempting to take a bite of the hunter with its terrible jaws every now and then. Fortunately Malik seemed to have better reflexes, so far but the creature was gaining on quickly. He saw expression of utter determination and concentration on the hunter's face. He himself tensed from the anticipation.

Those last few moments before the creature stepped into the magic circle felt like pure agony to Ezio, who would have rather just hit the last ward to the ground and actually do something worthwhile. He had only seconds to act while the fiend was still inside the area, so he slammed the last ward down hard and ducked to avoid being impaled by an antler.

Blue foxfire spread out from one ward to another in the shape of a pentagram near instantaneously, effectively trapping the fiend inside. Ezio threw the bomb he had been holding in his left hand all, while reaching behind his back for his crossbow. Malik was somewhere to his left probably already shooting at the fiend. The fiend roared in rage revealing its unnaturally long tongue from which lumps of saliva flew all around.

The bomb he had thrown seemed to do little apart from annoying the fiend judging from the way it roared at the impact. Then he saw Malik's bolt hit the fiend squarely in the left eye, and not to be outdone by his friend Ezio loaded his crossbow as quickly as he possibly could. He then proceeded to shoot at the monster, with the intention of hitting it in the right eye, but the fiend moved its head making the bolt fly harmlessly overhead. Malik had managed to grab the creature's ire with his actions as the fiend had its remaining red eye aimed towards the hunter along with razor sharp claws.

He loaded the crossbow once again, shot the bolt, and didn't miss the fiend this time. He repeated the motions over and over again until he ran out of bolts to shoot. The monster had crossbow bolts sticking out from it everywhere drawing trickles of blood from the creature. Ezio took this as a cue to draw his silver sword. This was the part he had been waiting for all along. A hunter should not stand at a distance firing his crossbow, but in close quarters slicing the damned monsters to pieces. His energy suddenly spiked to a completely new level.

He charged at the fiend, expertly dodging the antlers, while making a slice at the side of the monster drawing a considerable amount of blood from the shallow wound. He grinned like an idiot while stabbing and slicing at the fiend. He even parried the antlers a few times. He was in a battle high making him forget everything around him except for the fiend. The creature was thick-skinned and monstrous in size, so it took all of his strength to swing his sword at it.

Then the unthinkable happened. His boot got stuck in the mud like Malik had warned him. He panicked for a fraction of a second, but managed to pull himself free just in time to stumble away from the reach of the antlers. He sighed in relief in time to hear Malik berating him for something.

"Ezio, you dimwit! Fix the wards!" The other hunter practically screamed at him all the while dodging his own share of antlers.

"Shit!" Ezio cursed when he realised what had happened and sure enough the ward that was supposed to be right in front of himself was nowhere to be seen. The pentagram had of course vanished leaving the weakened, yet very lethal fiend free to do whatever it wanted to do, which was probably kill and then afterwards eat them. It was after all a monstrous fiend a size he had never seen before.

"Distract the fucker and I will fix this!" he shouted at Malik. He didn't get a response from the hunter, but then again the other man was doing everything he could to both fight the newly freed fiend while staying alive.

He scrambled through his pouches in search of a matching ward for the ones he had set up on the ground previously. His hands felt like they were made out of paste, making them near useless. He glanced quickly at the fight, which seemed to have put Malik on the defence judging how the fiend was now at the very edge of the incomplete magic circle.

Finally what seemed like an eternety he managed to secure a right kind of ward in his hand, but the fight was now out of the preset circle. They would have to bring the fiend back to the circle in some way.

"Malik! You need to bring it back here!" Ezio shouted as loud as he could in the hopes his friend would hear him over the horrible sounds the monster was making. For a while the fight continued similarly, but then Malik rolled through the muddy ground to face the side of the monster.

The fiend predictably followed, turning its whole body so that it was facing the direction of the wards once again. All Malik had to do was to lead the creature back to the circle now and lead he did. Thank God for his friend's fast reflexes and agility. Ezio was holding his breath everytime the monster took a swipe at his friend, and everytime Malik evaded the attack he flinched to the same direction as the hunter did.

Everything was going well, the creature was almost back inside the wards. He was holding the ward so hard his knuckles turned white, ready to stab it through the ground as soon as possible. Only a few steps was needed to trap the fiend back to its place. That was of course when everything went horribly, horribly wrong. Ezio could only recognise Malik flying sideways through the air as if he weighed nothing, then hitting the ground with an unhealthy crack and not getting up.

He dropped the ward on the ground that instant. He saw the fiend lunging after his unconscious companion. His heart stopped beating for a second. Everything slowed to a snail's pace. Ezio charged towards the creature without any kind of plan except to prevent the fiend from killing Malik.

The fiend had almost reached Malik, making Ezio feel like he was still miles away and running through tar. He felt desperate, because he really didn't want his best friend to end up being killed by an ugly monster in the swamps, but he felt powerless like he had never before. This was no longer fun and exhilirating, but dreadful and exhausting. He realised he was shouting Malik's name on top of his lungs, but there was no response and the monster was now so close to ripping the man to shreds.

But just as he was about to lose all of his hope of ever seeing Malik alive, a white blur appeared between the fiend and his friend. The world returned to its normal pace, when he realised the white blur was a man wearing odd white hooded robes, which starkly contrasted with the surrounding darkness and murky ground.

The newcomer sported a sword in his right hand but it was his left hand, he used as if to punch the fiend. Ezio didn't stay to watch, but continued his charge to attack the fiend's side while the man in white took the deadly front.

Then the man in white did something he had never seen anyone do before. The stranger jumped on top of the fiend grabbing onto the antlers for leverage. Then without any hesitation plunged his sword through the monster's neck. Ezio used the opportunity presented him to stab the fiend's heart through the side, now that he didn't have to worry about the antlers impaling him anymore. It took all of his remaining strenght to push through the thick skin and hard ribcage to reach the monster's heart.

The fiend fell to the side with a heavy thud with Ezio's sword still sticking from its side. He was exhausted breathing heavily, and for a while he could not do anything but catch his breath while staring at the bleeding dead fiend on the ground. Then he remembered Malik was still unconsciously lying on the ground, making him spring back into action.

He rushed to his friend's side, where the white clad stranger was already crouching over the hunter's unmoving body. He could not see the stranger's eyes from underneath the hood, but he could see a scar crossing his lip on the right side. Ezio's eyes were then drawn to Malik, whose robes were torn from the left side showing nasty gashes underneath bleeding profusely, but the most worrying thing was he had not still shown any signs of regaining consciousness and the puddle of blood formed beneath his head.

"He's not dead, but he has broken ribs and probably a concussion. He'll live," the white clad stranger said with an accented but emotionless voice. So they had been rescued by a foreigner, what were the odds?

"Who are you?" Ezio asked, because he could not think of anything better to say.

"I'm Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. You are Ezio Auditore. Your friend Malik Al-Sayf, here needs medical attention, but if you would rather let him die, I won't interfere." What a jerk this Altaïr was, Ezio decided, even if he had skills to back up his attitude. But the jerk was right, he needed to get Malik away from here. Then he would question Altaïr on how he knew their names, or why he had showed up during their fight and all the other numerous questions he had in his mind.


	4. Malik's terrible headache

A/N: Hello again. I kind of forgot I was crossposting this to here as well. This is going to be the last chapter without censoring here on, so for the vastly superior experience head over to AO3 where I upload this under the name Sorsa while the story retains the same name

* * *

Malik woke up to the distinct feeling of being carried by someone. The world swam in and out of focus when he attempted to look around. Then he threw up on the person carrying him while feeling like his head was about to split, and proceeded black out almost immediately.

The next time he came to he was lying on a bed in a dimly lit room. His head was killing him, but he could also feel excruciating pain from his ribs when he attempted to sit up, making him wince in response. He gagged as his stomach attempted to empty itself of its contents. Somebody came through the door, but he was feeling too groggy and his eyes wanted to close despite trying to stay awake to see who had come in. He fell back into the realm of blissful nothingness.

The third time he regained consciousness, Malik felt infinitely more lucid than the previous times. His head hurt still, his body felt as if he had been run over by an entire Italian cavalry unit, a few bandages ran over his head, and his upper body was wrapped tightly, but he could think clearly.

He was consumed by a need to know how long he had been unconscious, but seeing how there was nobody to answer his questions, he was left to his own devices. The room was dark with the only window covered up, which he was thankful for because he doubted he could handle any sunlight with the thrumming headache he was feeling. The only light source was an oil lamp at a bedside table. He brushed his jaw with his fingers, attempting to feel his stubble, but there was barely any, save for the patch he deliberately kept on his chin. This was good he couldn't have been out cold longer than a day or two.

He attempted to recall the last moments of the fight with the monstrous fiend, but he could only recall the point where Ezio had somehow destroyed his own wards and how Malik had fought the released monster alone while the Italian had probably tried to set the wards back up again. He could even recall Ezio shouting instructions to bring the fiend back to the circle, but after that he could remember nothing. Malik had never dodged that many attacks than he had when fighting the fiend. His vision had been filled with antlers, sharp teeth, and razor edge sharp claws for a time, when he had been all alone with the monster.

They must have killed the beast though, since he was here alive, even if injured. But how did they manage the feat, since his memories ended when he was leading the monster back to the wards? Had they managed to recapture the thing or was Ezio secretly that much better a fighter than he was that he could have killed the monster by himself. He groaned, annoyed. No matter how much he tried, the pieces were not adding up, but then again he was missing a lot of them.

Malik decided he wanted to clear his aching head so he started counting the ceiling cracks. He was feeling exhausted, despite not doing anything save for thinking, hating himself for it. By the time he had reached the half-way point he drifted off into light sleep.

When he woke up his head didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the previous time, but he realized he was hungry, or more like ravenous. His stomach grumbled painfully in a protest of being left empty for too long a time.

" _You should probably eat something_ ," said a flat voice from somewhere in the room. Malik's eyes shot wide open while sitting up on reflex despite the stabbing pain the exertion caused, making him clutch at his side. His other hand reached for a weapon that was not there, making him frustrated at himself. He scanned the room with narrowed eyes to find the source for the voice. Malik had his face contorted into a scowl from the pain and the discomfort of being watched at brought him when he saw the stranger clad in white hood obscuring his face.

" _Who are you? Why are you here?_ " Malik snarled at the intruder in an animalistic fear of being caught defenceless. There was something dangerous in the way the stranger was leaning against a wall, even apart from the obvious weaponry the man was carrying. No, he decided, it was something he had only ever seen Ezio doing. The man was a hunter like himself, which was all the more worrying.

" _I'm_ _Altaïr_ _Ibn-La'Ahad,_ " the stranger introduced himself calmly. Malik had the most terrifying feeling of déjà vu he had ever had. His subconscious started hammering him how he knew the name, how it was important and how he should care, but the rationale side of his brain knew he had never even met the man, and how he should be wary of this intruder. His headache also picked up, sending jolts of pain through his temples. He reached up with his hands to hold his head and anything else the stranger might have said went unheard.

Malik found himself drowning in the headache induced by a sensation attempting to invade his thoughts like a battering ram through a door. He bit his lip to the point it started bleeding and feeling the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, which finally spurred him back into action.

" _Get out! I can not deal with you or anyone else right now,_ " Malik snapped with more venom than he had intended, while schooling his face back into an angry scowl in an attempt to not betray any more of his inner turmoil. The stranger didn't acknowledge him in any way, but simply left and for some reason even this action irked Malik.

When the door snapped closed, he sighed and slumped back to the bed. He covered his face with his other hand while shivers ran through his frame. He was losing his mind. There was no other explanation for all these sensations, dreams, and feelings he was experiencing except a sure decline into madness. He wanted to scream his lungs out, rip something into tiny pieces, and throw all the things he could get his hands on as far as he could, but he did not. Instead he chose to wallow in this bed half covered in itchy blankets while being tortured from inside by both physical and mental pain.

He didn't want to deal with any people poking at him and most certainly he didn't need any stranger seeing him while he was vulnerable. He wanted to be alone in his torture. They would shut him into an asylum if they didn't decide to put him down like a rabid dog. This was something he couldn't talk about to anyone, not even Kadar or Ezio. He would have to find a way to be rid of this sickness to his mind. Then he fell asleep, again.

When he woke up it was to the sound of Ezio conversing with someone with a heavy accent to their Italian. His sleep-addled brain was slow and it took him longer than usual to recognize the other voice, belonged to the stranger called Altaïr. But Altaïr didn't have an accent when he had spoken to him, which made Malik suspicious.

Deciding he had had quite enough of lying on the bed, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up on slightly wobbly legs. He felt all his muscles scream in protest as the aches instantly doubled. But the worst thing was his head spinning, forcing him to take support from the wall in fear of falling down in an undignified heap.

He stood there for several minutes, one hand on the wall and one clutching his aching ribs, while taking slow deep breaths in a vain attempt to tone down the pain coursing through every part of his body. He loathed himself for his weakness, his traitorous body, and the world in general, which manifested itself as a pained frown.

When the world finally settled before his eyes, he mustered all of his strength to walk as steadily as he could, attempting to conceal any feebleness in himself. Though there was no hiding the bandages covering his chest, he could still overcome the muscle pains through sheer willpower for a time. He had to be convincing because Malik was done with Venice and wanted to go back to Monteriggioni where he could throw himself at maps and books, and then at some demon possessed animal when his injuries had healed.

He opened the door and sure enough Ezio was there talking to, while gesturing with his hands. Altaïr was wearing his hood up similar to the way Malik had seen him the last time and leaning against a wall his arms crossed expression unreadable. Both men turned to face him. Ezio's face went through a series of emotions, starting from a surprise shaping his mouth to an 'o', then a smile and finally alarm with his eyes wide open, which would have normally amused Malik, if not for being too much pain to react. Altaïr was stone-faced except for a slight frown.

"I do not think you should be up, my friend," Ezio said concerned before moving towards Malik with the probable intention of coaxing him to go back to rest. But Malik had had enough of resting and he wasn't about to be treated like a sickly little child. The Italian laid his hand on Malik's shoulder, which made him snap.

" _I am fine. Leave me be._ " At that Ezio looked at him like he didn't understand a single word he had said, which made Malik even more furious.

" _Have you gone completely daft Ezio?_ " Malik threw his hands in the air, but instantly regretted it when he doubled over from the pain in his ribs. This seemed to make Ezio even clingier, but Malik pushed his friend away.

" _It would probably help if you spoke to him in Italian,_ " Altaïr said while Malik was fighting against the pains radiating from his broken ribs. Malik realized Altaïr had once again spoken without an accent, which was just confusing on so many levels, but there was also something else.

" _What do you mean? I do not even know any other languages besides Italian,_ " but then he had to stop, because Ezio was giving him a funny look once again. He started tasting the words that had left his mouth.

"Could you two turn back to Italian so I can understand," Ezio asked exasperated. Then the feeling of memory attempting to attack his mind hit like a ton of bricks, making him feel light-headed all of a sudden. He fought the terrible shock of pain wracking his brain and came out the victor this time, but also with the dawning knowledge of being fluent in Arabic, which he had never been aware of.

"I am sorry for confusing you Ezio, but I am fine, really. I just want food and an explanation of what has happened." He attempted to calm his voice, but it still came out with an unnecessary bite. Ezio seemed to accept this and stopped hovering over Malik.

Malik soon found himself sitting in the kitchen with food presented for him. The fresh bread and pasta smelled delicious, but for some reason tasted disappointingly rather bland. He managed to sate his appetite while Ezio explained him what had gone down whilst he had been unconscious.

By the time Ezio reached the point in his story where he told him how Altaïr had basically saved Malik from being gored to death, Malik couldn't help but look confused. Apparently Altaïr noticed his confusion, since the man interrupted Ezio just to say,

"I was tracking the fiend, the same as you, and just happened to the place by an accident. I only used the opportunity to my advantage to take out the monster." Malik could have sworn an arrogant smirk flashed through the man's features. Now he didn't know what to think about the man at all, because he _had_ saved his life, even if it had been mere coincidence, but then again there was just something about Altaïr that made him extremely uncomfortable. Then there was the question of the man itself, because he really didn't know anything about him at all besides his name and yet the man still lingered among them.

"So why are you still here?" Malik asked, slightly irritated.

"Since you were incapacitated Ezio asked me to help him track the vampire in the city," and the way he said the word 'incapacitated' made Malik want to throttle the man right then and there, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he chose his own method: insults.

"But apparently you are not doing a very good job since you are still here, _novice_ ," the last part dropping into Arabic almost against his will, but he didn't care because the obvious surprise on Altaïr's face was just too delicious to pass up. Malik smirked, pleased with himself. Ezio raised a confused eye-brow, but didn't say anything even though clearly wanted to do so.

"The tracks have gone cold. There are no new bodies or strange killings happening. It is as if the vampire packed his things up and left, my friend," Ezio said calmly.

"So why is he still here? If the vampire is gone, he has no reason to remain," Malik demanded suspiciously. There was something going on, that he was not aware of.

"I was invited to Monteriggioni," Altaïr answered matter of factly. Malik's jaw dropped in disbelief and he directed a questioning glare towards Ezio. He didn't want a dangerous individual such as Altaïr at his home where he could possibly hurt his family.

"It was my father who invited him. He wants to give half of the reward to Altaïr," Ezio answered the unspoken question, and from years of being friends with Ezio Malik could also read the slight tone of disappointment. Ezio, being the only hunter in his family had a lot on his shoulders, so he must have felt like he was being undermined by his father. But there was a hole in the logic.

"Why not have Federico give him the reward?" Malik questioned, because he knew Federico had plenty of money on him. A hunter's reward should be a trivial thing for a banker.

"Apparently my father and Altaïr are somehow acquainted," Ezio sighed uncharacteristically. That made a little bit more sense, because even though he had never heard of any other monster hunters outside of Italy, it didn't mean they didn't exist and it would also make sense for Giovanni Auditore to know of them. But if the man was a monster hunter, why wasn't he hunting monsters in his own home country, instead of Venice? There was just no way he was there for a single fiend.

"So why are you in Italy in the first place?" Malik inquired neutrally.

"I'm looking for something, which I believe to be in Italy," Altaïr answered. Malik narrowed his eyes. The man was omitting something from his answer.

"And that is what?" Malik prodded.

"I can't tell you," was the immediate final answer. Malik's mind went to a full state of alarm even if he logically knew it might have something to do with his branch of hunters. The Italian hunters also had a few secrets that couldn't be told to outsiders, not even to the closest family members. But Malik didn't trust people easily, so he filed the statement against Altaïr's case.

Malik scoffed in disapproval. He would have also crossed his arms, if he had not already learnt how much it would hurt. He processed all the information he had been given before reaching a final conclusion.

"I need two days," Malik said sternly. Ezio looked at him confused. Altaïr didn't react at all.

"Two days for what, Malik my friend?" Ezio asked bemused.

"Two days to get my ass back in shape to travel back to Monteriggioni. I have had my share of this wretched city, which still by the way smells horrible," Malik added as an afterthought, because he had started to smell the unmistakable scent of faeces and dead fish again in the last half an hour. Ezio looked alarmed and was obviously about to voice his opinion.

"Do not treat me as if I was dying. I know myself better than you do and I know I can handle the journey back just fine," he snapped before Ezio had a chance to interject his opinion. The Italian submitted to nodding in return.

* * *

Kadar was bored. He was sitting on the fence surrounding the training yard with a practice sword in his hand, which he used to tap himself rhythmically on his right foot. His actual sword leaned against the fence sheathed in its scabbard. The setting sun coloured everything red, but Kadar hardly took any notice.

He had previously beaten two aspiring new guards in a sparring match without much trouble, leaving him nothing to do for the rest of the evening. His brother was back along with Ezio and a weird new person his brother called 'stupid novice', but who was actually called Altaïr. His brother had also somehow gotten himself badly injured in his stay in the Venice, was now drawing maps of a city he apparently didn't even know the name for and had learnt to speak Arabic, but Kadar didn't really care about all that since he had met the most wonderful girl he had ever known.

Her name was Francisca and she had waved to him when he was on guard duty. Kadar also had seen her once at the market while off-duty. She had the most beautiful brown eyes and dark hair, and Kadar would be lying if he didn't admit that he liked the sway of her hips when she walked.

He had told his brother about her and Malik had not cared the least bit, just nagged to him how he had said the same thing about Katerina and how had that worked out. His brother didn't understand that this was a completely different thing. But then again his brother was antisocial jerk with no understanding of human emotions.

Claudia had not been understanding either. She had just scoffed at him and proceeded to sulk for the rest of the day. Kadar didn't understand what was wrong with the people around him. At least Ezio had told him to go for it, though Ezio probably had just meant for him to bed the girl. He wanted to have a romance and then marry the girl. Kadar sighed, still bored.

He really wasn't in the mood for watching his brother draw maps while being occasionally snapped at. He could go to the brothel, but he felt like he would be cheating on Francisca so that was out of the question. Nobody wanted to challenge him into sparring match since he would beat them in the matter of seconds and he also wasn't in the mood to listen to Claudia's endless gossiping. He didn't really know what he was in the mood for, but whatever it was it wasn't sitting in the waning sunlight while endlessly tapping a sword against his foot.

"You don't look much like your brother," came an accented voice from somewhere to his right. Kadar turned his head to look. A stranger clad in white, with a hood obscuring his face, which meant he was Altaïr.

"Usually people say we look very much alike apart from our height and eye colour," Kadar said noncommittally. What a weird way to start a conversation.

"Usually the people saying those things are Italian. I am not," Altaïr said, betraying no emotion. Kadar didn't really understand the meaning behind the words, leaving him puzzled and at a loss at whether he was supposed to be offended or pleased at the words. At least the man was acknowledging him to be a separate being from his brother, which was always a huge benefit in Kadar's mind.

"I don't really understand what that is supposed to mean," Kadar said before he could think anything smarter to say and cursed himself for it as soon as the words had left his mouth.

"Apparently you are not nearly as intelligent as your brother either."

Kadar frowned at the words. He so 'loved' always being compared to his brother to the point of often feeling like a inferior edition of Malik. His brother was smarter, he was a monster hunter, and made those stupid maps, but Malik was also reclusive, violent asshole, who revelled in being an outsider, but somehow Kadar with his high position in the guard and likeable character was the worse brother.

"And? What does it matter? I'm not my brother," Kadar said, irritated.

"True. It doesn't matter," Altaïr answered nonchalantly. Then a sudden thought crossed his mind transforming Kadar's face into a smug grin.

"Want to spar?" Kadar asked enthusiastically. Altaïr cocked his head as if to evaluate Kadar's worthiness.

"Sure," was the uninterested answer. Kadar threw his practice sword to Altaïr and went to pick up another for himself.

"None of the fancy hunter shit and don't tell my brother. He'll kill you and then he'll kill me," he warned the hunter, using as much harshness in his voice as he could muster from his giddiness.

"Why would he do that,"Altaïr asked while inspecting the practice sword for its balance.

"He doesn't like me fighting anyone because he thinks I might get hurt," he uttered in the annoyance the words brought him.

"That's stupid," was the simple answer, but it made Kadar go, 'Finally there's somebody who understands me!' in his mind.

"I know," Kadar answered while his smile returned. Then they both went at it with their swords.

Kadar favoured an aggressive way of fighting where he would attack before giving his opponent a chance to retaliate, and then he would simply over-power them. It worked well enough against most of his opponents, but Altaïr was not like most, he realised.

The hunter moved past all of his strikes, as if it was nothing while delivering his own counter attacks. It took only seconds before Kadar's sword flew through the air and he found himself only few millimetres away from the blunted end of the practice sword. Kadar gasped in disbelief. How could their skill levels be so vastly different? This man was amazing.

The sword was removed from his field of view. Kadar steered his eyes away from the sword and into the hunter, realising the hunter was still wearing the same stony expression he had before the fight.

"You aren't completely without talent it would seem," Altaïr said, which translated in Kadar's mind into 'You are the most talented person I've ever seen, especially more talented than your brother'. Kadar practically beamed.

"You need to teach me how to do all that you just did!" Kadar almost shouted in excitement. Altaïr frowned. Kadar didn't care. Before him stood a sword fighting god, who could impart secrets to a talented persons such as himself and make him invincible.

* * *

Malik was in the middle of drawing a map when someone knocked his door. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had not been sleeping well lately because the vivid dreams he first experienced in Venice had kicked up a notch and now he was not only flying over the city he still didn't know the name of, but running through its streets in pursuit of something yet unknown.

He had started drawing a map of the city, because it felt a right thing to do. He thought that maybe if he drew the city, the dreams would go away. But they didn't, as proven by three complete maps of the unknown city lying on his desk next to the one he was currently working on.

One of the most annoying things was that he had even seen a dream where he drew a map of the unknown city. That particular dream had made him wake up boiling furious, and in a fit of rage he tried burn his maps. But as the fire caught corner of one his maps, a pang of regret hit him just as hard as the rage had earlier, so he put the fire out. So, Malik had drawn three complete maps, one of which was now slightly burned and one map was in the works, of a city he had only ever seen in his dreams. He was starting to feel like he might have made the city up in his own delusional mind, which was feeding him all kinds of unwanted things of late anyways.

He put his quill aside carefully, then turned towards the door to let in whoever had knocked, which already told him it wasn't Kadar nor Ezio. The former didn't bother knocking and the latter didn't bother to wait for his answer.

He opened the door, only to be greeted by Altaïr standing in the hallway. He honestly didn't understand why the man was still around Monteriggioni because he had claimed his reward and there was nothing else there for him, but of course Giovanni had welcomed the hunter to stay as long as he wanted in a true Italian manner of hospitality.

"Why are you here?" Malik asked suspiciously. He had spent five days in the man's constant presence, but learnt very little of him in the process. The few things he had learnt of the man were rather inconsequential, like he was of Arabian descent and had grown up in a place called Masyaf somewhere in Syria. Generally speaking, things anyone with a half a brain could have deduced after taking a hard look at the man and listening to the way he spoke.

" _Can I come in?_ " Altaïr asked in Arabic, which was another thing the man did. He insisted on speaking to Malik in Arabic, which served as a constant reminder to Malik that he had not previously even been aware of his own fluency in Arabic. He had deduced that Altaïr must have triggered a memory from his life before Monteriggioni, which he didn't know anything about. It didn't take a genius to see that Malik himself was of a Middle-Eastern descent and even more obviously than Altaïr, who seemed pale compared to Malik. This was something Malik had been acutely aware of since he was a child, surrounded by Italians and realising at some point that he would never be one of them.

" _Fine_ ," he said and moved out of the way to let the other hunter in. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, which Malik didn't know how to break without saying something potentially offending.

Altaïr moved to his desk and picked up one of the maps there. It was the one with a burned corner. Malik cursed silently to himself, because if Altaïr asked a question about the city, he wouldn't be able to answer and people tended to ask him questions of the cities he drew maps of. He could see an expression of recognition dawn on the hunter's feaures.

" _This is Jerusalem_ ," Altaïr said with a surprised voice. Malik wanted to frown, but caught himself before the expression could manifest on his face. He mentally berated himself for being too stupid not to search the library for maps of the Middle-Eastern cities.

" _Yes it is_ ," Malik commented not betraying his lack of knowledge. He wasn't about to confess Altaïr that this was the first time he had heard the name of the city he had drawn three maps of.

" _It is very good_ ," Altaïr complimented. How could the man differentiate between a good map and a bad one when he could hardly hold a conversation that didn't revolve around killing things? Malik decided he didn't give a damn about Altaïr's opinion, since it held no weight.

" _Thank you_ ," Malik answered nevertheless, because at least he could pretend to be a decent human being for once.

" _I used to have a very dear friend to me who loved Jerusalem. He was also a cartographer, so I've seen many maps of the city_ ," Altaïr said with something akin to wistfulness, which caught Malik by surprise because out of all the things he had expected Altaïr to say the next this wasn't among them. The man was attempting to extend an olive branch to him for some reason. Altaïr wasn't even doing such a bad job at it since he had even called him a cartographer instead of map maker, which Malik hated to be called. Anybody could make maps, but a cartographer calculated them with precise math and with the help of instruments specially designed for it.

Malik was now on edge. He could accept Altaïr's silent proposal, but doing so meant he would give part of himself to the man and let his guard down at least partially. Of course the other hunter was just as reserved as Malik was, he realized, and there was some nagging part of his unconscious mind trying to break free telling him Malik was a fool not to trust him.

In the end Malik decided he would for once do a leap of faith. It wasn't like he had not already spent days practically sleeping on the same bed with the man during the journey back from Venice and he was still alive. Maybe he could even forget the notion of slowly losing his mind if he had something else to think about. He still had a month's worth of resting to do before his ribs and wounds would be fully healed. He could use some distraction.

They talked about Jerusalem and monsters. They debated advantages and disadvantages of different sword fighting styles. Malik lectured Altaïr of the finer points of cartography, while the other one listened carefully. As the night wore on Malik realised he, despite his preconceptions, had enjoyed himself and that Altaïr was not entirely without wit.

* * *

It was kind of funny really. Malik did not want to have anything to do with Altaïr, but somehow he had ended up spending more and more of his time with the man. Usually Altaïr would appear sometime after dinner and they would end up spending the entire night arguing about things.

Malik loved every second of it. During the weeks he had spent with Altaïr, he had learned the man was surprisingly cultured, forcing him to re-evaluate his opinion. The man was still an inconsiderate jerk, infuriating Malik on so many levels, but he was not simpleton.

Five weeks had gone by since the incident with the fiend and Malik wasn't able to stand cooped up inside with his maps anymore. So when Altaïr showed up that night, Malik had only one thing in mind.

" _Let us go outside. If I spend any more time inside, I will rip someone's head off_ ," Malik said already fastening his cloak over his shoulders. Altaïr nodded in response and followed Malik after he made it out of the door into the hallway.

The night was cool and the moon was full, illuminating everything in pale blue light. The air smelled of freshly made hay covering the usual smell of sewage underneath it almost completely. It was peaceful in the way only a small town like Monteriggioni could be.

Malik led them to the ramparts, where they climbed the steps leading to the top of them. He wanted to be in as high place as he could reach without hurting his still-healing ribs. He went out of his way to find a spot where the night guards couldn't see them, and when he finally found a place that satisfied him he took in as much of the surrounding landscape as he could.

The wind picked up slightly against his cloak. He could feel Altaïr to his left even without looking at the man. A smile tucked at the corner of Malik's mouth. When had he become so aware of the man that he knew where Altaïr was automatically? He shook his head at his stupid notions, but could not shake off the ridiculous amusement he was feeling.

" _When are they allowing you to return back to your normal duties?_ " Altaïr asked.

" _In a couple of weeks._ "

" _Good. You look as if ants had invaded your pants half of the time, which I assume is because you have too much free time_ ," Altaïr said smugly. Malik glared judgementally at the hunter.

" _I am not going to respond to that idiocy_ ," he retorted.

" _But it's true, you want to go out there and fight monsters_ ," Altaïr stated matter-of-factly. Malik sighed.

" _It is. To claim otherwise would be lying. It was what I was trained to do. It is what I am good at doing_ ," he said, slightly irritated. He would rather not talk about this subject, because at the moment there was nothing he could do to help advance his goals.

" _A hunting bird won't forget it's purpose, even if it is made to live among hen_ ," Altaïr said with a tone that suggested he thought he was parting with some higher wisdom. Malik rolled his eyes.

" _I imagine such bird would eat the hens_ ," he answered sarcastically. Altaïr snorted.

" _Probably_ ," Altaïr answered simply.

Altaïr lowered his hood, making Malik realise it was the first time he had an unobstructed view of his face. The hunter turned to face him and Malik could have sworn Altaïr's golden coloured eyes were glowing slightly in the dark. Altaïr looked him straight in the eyes, making Malik feel the urge to look away

Altaïr was handsome even with his lopsided smirk. There was no other way of putting it. He suddenly felt paranoid that his thoughts might show on his face, so he forced his expression into frown. He shouldn't be thinking like that, but it was so hard with piercing gaze Altaïr directed at him.

Malik found himself fighting hard against urges he had thought he had buried deep within himself years ago. Something so sinful, he refused to give a name even in his head for fear of acting on them. He felt like Altaïr had been put there in front of him, just to tempt him into sin because some higher power must have known about his weakness. Altaïr probably didn't even know the extent his influence had on him, which was a good thing because surely the hunter would be repulsed by his impure unnatural thoughts.

" _Why do you do that_ ," Altaïr asked, amused. Malik's thoughts turned frantic for a while.

" _Do what?_ " he snapped back in defence.

" _Turn angry without any provocation_ ," Altaïr answered. At least his horrible thoughts didn't show outwardly, so there was that.

" _Do I need a particular reason when everyone around me is an ignoramus?_ " he said annoyed because most people really were simpletons. Altaïr looked even more amused for some reason even though he had just called him stupid indirectly. What an annoying, arrogant bastard the other hunter was. Malik scowled murderously.

" _I had a friend once, who often said something similar to that_ ," Altaïr said with fondness in his voice, which infuriated Malik even more for a reason he did not know.

" _You 'had' a friend, indicating you don't have one anymore. I can not imagine why since you have such a delightful personality_ ," Malik retorted while rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner.

" _He got killed in the end, so yes you are right. I had promised to protect him, but I failed. He could not fight, so he stood no chance_ ," Altaïr monotoned, the memory obviously hurting him more than he showed outwardly. Malik saw his chance at hurting the other hunter so he could put more distance between himself and Altaïr. He was already treading on dangerous water and he had no desire to have his unnatural desires found out.

" _Maybe your friend should have been a fighter. Maybe he would not have been killed then. People can not just expect to be protected by others_ ," Malik said with unnecessary malice. He looked away, not wanting to see the reaction his hurtful words had on the other man, because in reality he did not want to hurt Altaïr. He just had to make Altaïr hate him, so he could hate the man back. Anger was familiar and easy, disdain even better and open loathing the best. He needed something to latch on to besides his own growing fondness and desire towards the man.

A hand landed on his shoulder catching him completely off guard. Malik flinched at the contact but the pressure remained firmly in place. He turned to look at Altaïr once more and the man had one of the most infuriating smirks on his face. Malik frowned. This wasn't the reaction he had been anticipating.

" _Yes. Maybe he should have been; alas he was not. However you are and I like it_ ," then the hunter leaned to whisper huskily in Malik's ear, " _Stop being jealous of a dead person_." Malik turned every shade of red that had ever existed. He pushed Altaïr away from him.

" _Stop speaking nonsense, novice_ ," Malik growled while crossing his arms in defiance. Altaïr grinned smugly. Malik rolled his eyes.

Malik decided to sit and sulk on the edge of the rampart because despite everything he didn't want to go back just yet. His legs dangled over the air. Altaïr sat next to him in a similar fashion. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as they watched at nothing in particular.

" _What was his name_?" Malik asked carefully.

"Hmm?"

" _The old friend who could not fight_ ," Malik clarified, and somehow he was sure the friend was also the same one who did cartography. Altaïr just didn't seem the type of person to have an abundance of friends.

" _He was called 'the King of the Sword' despite the fact that he would have probably stabbed himself if he had been given one. He fought his battles with quill, ink, and nasty words_ ," Altaïr chuckled fondly. Malik felt like he was suddenly struck by something. He turned to look at Altaïr, who was leaning against one of his arms lazily, as the thought dawned on him.

Altaïr's friend had had the same name as he did, or maybe his delusional mind had decided to snatch the name from mid-air. This was too much of a coincidence. His surname was Al-Sayf, but he had not known this until now. He cringed and felt nauseous. His mood turned sour a the matter of seconds. He had now gone weeks without his madness bothering him too much. He could not tell this to Altaïr under any circumstance.

He could feel the makings of a headache. Malik groaned while running his fingers through his hair. How much more could his mind take before he wouldn't be able to recognize himself anymore through the fog of madness? Today he was drawing maps of Jerusalem obsessively and picking surnames for himself; maybe tomorrow he would run through someone with a sword or sit in a corner mumbling incoherent words to himself while rocking back and forth. It terrified him and he could not speak to anyone about it.

Malik reclined his head to watch the stars. Then he started counting them in an attempt to clear his mind. He didn't want to think about his insanity.

* * *

Malik's dreams took a violent turn. The violent dreams were always the same; he would no longer be exploring Jerusalem but running away for his life. He would be captured by a group of men who held him down by force, while being unable to defend himself paralysed him with fear. They would run a wooden stake through his chest, then release him, and he would sit up with his remaining strength. His remaining time alive would be spent caressing the wooden stake in wonder of how bizarre it looked sticking out of himself.

He always woke up panting and sweating afterwards. He could practically feel the wooden stake through his flesh and bones, even after several minutes of waking up. He ran his hands over his chest several times just to make sure he was in fact not speared with a stake. Then he would stare at his hands as if they were a separate entity of himself, despite his rationale telling him they were not. He felt disconnected from his body.

Then there were the sex dreams, which left him flustered and hard afterwards unless he had found his release in the dream, in which case he was covered in his own semen come evening. He blamed Altaïr for these dreams and not so much his waning sanity, which wasn't really that much better honestly.

In one of them, he was being fucked from behind, making him unable to see his partner. But he could feel very vividly the hands on his hips, the teeth puncturing his shoulder, the feeling of being filled and the hand on his own manhood pumping him towards sweet release. The hands on him were large and calloused wandering over his wet, slicked frame.

During his waking hours Malik was constantly agitated and easily irritable, which meant he constantly snapped at anyone who attempted to approach him. He started going out of his way to avoid people. He did not want to deal with anyone for fear of triggering his insanity even more. The most dangerous of all was Altaïr, whose presence seemed to fan the flames of both his insanity and unnatural lust for men.

" _Begone from my sight. I do not have time for you_ ," he growled angrily at Altaïr. He needed the man to go away.

" _You used to have time in abundance not so long ago_ ," Altaïr replied clearly frustrated and with a distinct frown on his face.

" _That was a mistake. Do you not have some demon possessed scarecrow to kill or maybe a windmill?_ " Malik spat venomously. Altaïr had to leave or Malik would break down into pieces.

" _No_ ," was the defiant reply.

" _Then you could go and bother someone who cares, like my brother for instance_ ," he snarled viciously.

" _I don't want to bother your brother. I want you_ ," Altaïr all but shouted at him, which made Malik lose it completely. Why couldn't the man understand what was good for the both of them.

" _Get out!_ " he shrieked at the top of his lungs. Then to make his point even clearer he threw the first object he could reach, which happened to be an inkpot. Altaïr dodged it which shattered into million tiny pieces, leaving an ugly smear on the wall. The man took his cue and left Malik alone.

He felt horrible for what he had done to Altaïr, to what he was doing to everyone near him, but he was at his wit's end with nowhere to go since he had started seeing visions even during his waking hours and they weren't tied to fighting either anymore. He slumped down to the stone floor of his chambers hugging himself with his arms.

He was conflicted in so many different ways that he couldn't even begin to unravel his thoughts. He was slowly going insane, but he could not tell anyone about it, not especially since he now had permission to return back to his duties, which he had done with glee so he could have something else to think about. For some reason he had cooked up this idea in his head that if he would just return back to his normal schedule everything would go back to way it was, but training himself back into shape and killing few minor monsters had not helped his mental state in any way.

Then there were his bodily urges. He had spent years and years conditioning himself out of them and staying celibate. Now everything hit him, as if he was a hormonal teenager all over again instead of a 25-year old adult. He knew he was a sinner and what his body wanted of him was unnatural. He should be killed for what he was. But then again he might be killed anyway if his escalation into madness kept going.

He was a truly fucked up individual. Maybe he even deserved to be put down. Maybe there even was someone who would enjoy seeing him beheaded. Malik grinned at the idea. Kadar kept telling him what a nasty and unlikeable creature he was anyway, so it wouldn't be like society was losing something valuable.

* * *

A/N: I love torturing Malik because I love him so much. Makes sense? :D


	5. Speaking is good for your soul

"Look! There she is," Kadar said, nudging Claudia to the side, while pointing at a girl walking through the market place. They were sitting side by side on top of one of the houses in Monteriggioni watching the people pass by. Claudia was wearing her riding clothes and even if she wasn't, she wasn't much of a lady anyway. She would climb houses with Kadar anyday.

"Isn't she the one who called you 'creepy stalker'," Claudia commented, while rolling her eyes. Kadar winced. Why did Claudia have to so inconsiderate at times?

"She did, but I wasn't really stalking her," Kadar's voice went up in pitch when he defended himself. Claudia sniggered at him, looking just a little bit evil.

"You are sometimes just so stupid Kadar," Claudia mocked with a knowing smile. Kadar looked flabbergasted.

"What is that supposed to even mean?" he said utterly confused. He just didn't understand Claudia at times, well usually when it came to his attempts at wooing a girl. Claudia was now downright cackling. Kadar swore she was a devil incarnate.

"It means what it means," Claudia said with such finality, Kadar didn't bother prying more.

They sat in silence, but occasionally breaking it to comment on someone's horrible taste in clothing. Claudia told him all the gossip she had heard from her friends, which revolved around scandalous affairs between the Italian nobles. Apparently a noble woman had been caught having sex with her chamber maid and afterwards much of their conversation revolved around figuring out how that even worked out between two women.

The best part about Claudia was that while she was straightforward to the point of offense, Kadar could talk about anything with her. She knew more about his affairs than his brother did and she cared, unlike Malik who told him to stop being ridiculous. They had been friends since they were children, which was a very long time now.

"Should we go back to the villa?" Kadar asked, since they had been sitting for hours at the rooftop. Technically he was on guard duty but it really meant accompanying Claudia wherever she wanted to go. He even was paid to do it so the situation couldn't be better.

"I don't want to go there. The people there are idiots. What is up with them anyways? Ezio claims he knows nothing, my father doesn't care, Federico is still in Venice, Altaïr is an arrogant ass who deserves a good beating, and I haven't even seen your brother in weeks," Claudia exclaimed and then crossed her arms.

She was right too, Kadar knew, and it was worse for her since she actually lived in the villa, while Kadar lived at the barracks with the other guards. He had not seen Malik in over two weeks, but then again he had been preoccupied with his attempting to woo Francisca and trying to coax Altaïr to train him in sword fighting.

He had not paid much mind to his brother, but now that he thought about it even Malik wasn't that antisocial. How could they have avoided each other for half a month when they both were within the walls of Monteriggioni? Kadar pondered whether or not he should be worried for his brother, but could not reach a clear conclusion. Malik was an ass afterall. Who knew his brother's reasons for acting like an outcast?

"Does it matter, if they are idiots? I'm still charming at least," Kadar attempted to lighten up the mood by giving Claudia the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. Claudia snorted.

"What you are is a fool, that is what you are," Claudia said with a smile.

"True. But at least I amuse you," Kadar retorted good naturedly.

"My father should have hired you as a jester instead of guard," Claudia retorted sarcastically. Kadar grinned. Life was good. He could sit here forever with Claudia watching the crowds below.

* * *

Life was not good, Malik had decided. He had not slept for the fear of being caught up in one of the visions, though why he did so since he had visions during his waking hours as well, he did not know.

He had lost his appetite almost entirely and when he did eat, the food tasted as if covered in ash, so as a punishment for himself he started fasting. In fact, he was also punishing himself by training, so hard his muscles ached at the end of the night.

He avoided contact with people actively now. He skulked through shadows even during the darkest of nights to avoid meeting other people. As soon as he woke up he left his chambers immediately to avoid his brother and Altaïr. He could not deal with anyone as he currently was.

The only respite he had these days was when he was sent out to kill a monster. The sense of peace concentration on the hunt brought him was addicting for his torn mind. He revelled in the sensation of blood flowing to cover his arms; the satisfaction of the kill was almost orgasmic and he could lose himself to the fight without having to worry about life beyond that moment.

Unfortunately these were far and few between the days, when he had to simply try and hold into his last remaining remnants of sanity. Which was the reason why he had tried to put off seeing Leonardo for runeworks on his silver sword. But if he wanted to find that small amount of peace monster hunting brought him, he would have to bring his sword in for an overhaul. So he had managed to force himself to make the small journey to the workshop after debating himself for an hour.

Malik found himself standing behind Leonardo's door, attempting to muster enough willpower to go inside. He reached out his hand towards the doorknob, but at the last moment pulled it back. He was thinking up all the excuses he could to not enter the house.

But then he saw a person at the edge of his vision and on an instinct to avoid human contact he entered the building. He was greeted by a familiar smell of ink, paint and fresh wood. Leonardo turned around from his work, smiling with the biggest smile he had ever seen practically beaming happiness. Malik felt like a scared rabbit caught in the middle of a pack of wolves.

"Hello Malik, my friend. I haven't seen you in such a long time," Leonardo greeted, while rushing to hug Malik. There was no accusation in Leonardo's voice, but suddenly Malik felt really bad, because it was true that he had not seen the man in ages.

"Uh. I have been busy, I am sorry," and he was. Leonardo still smiled.

"Don't be. You are a young man in the prime of his life chasing after monsters all around Italy. You have better things to do than grow mould over yourself." The statement Leonardo gave Malik left him wondering the full meaning behind it, because it clearly wasn't meant to be taken literally.

"So, I was wondering, if you could work over the runes on my silver sword. I think they are weakened, because they are not really working as they should," Malik said while unsheathing his sword. He then carefully presented it to Leonardo, who accepted the sword with an expression of contemplation on his face.

The artist promptly inspected the sword, before landing his eyes on Malik.

"The runes are fine, but you are not," Leonardo said seriously concern written on his features. Malik's first instinct was to flee, which was ridiculous considering the person he was talking to was Leonardo, who would not harm even a fly.

"But they are not working the way the way they used to," he attempted to deflect the discussion back to the sword.

"Yes, but you aren't the same as when I made the runes either," Leonardo's voice was patient as if talking to a child. Malik fought with himself to keep standing where he was and not run out of the door.

"I do not know what you are talking about," he said attempting to appear oblivious. Malik crossed his arms pretending to look out of the window.

"If so why have you been avoiding human contact for nearly a month now," Leonardo queried, making Malik flinch visibly. He felt cornered, even if he should have known that Leonardo would know of his recent behaviour changes. In fact now that Malik thought about it, everyone close to him probably had noticed it. He just had been too caught up fighting losing battle against his inner demons of insanity.

"I – I can-not tell you. I would be killed for it. But if it helps in any way, I have not hurt anyone," Malik attempted desperately for Leonardo to drop the subject. Surely the inventor would understand that he could not endanger his own life by telling him something that had no bearing on anyone else's life, except for his own.

"You realise, you are talking to a witch? If I didn't reside in Monteriggioni I would be killed immediately. There isn't anything you could possibly tell me, which could get you in trouble," Leonardo said with sincerity written on his eyes. Malik couldn't take the pressure.

He cracked. He told Leonardo everything starting from the memory-esque visions he had, to the unnatural sexual urges. He told him how he had learnt to speak Arabic without ever learning to speak it and how he loved killing things a little bit too much. He told him how he tried to seclude himself, how he tried to avoid sleeping and how he punished himself. He told Leonardo all of it and at the end of things his voice was so strained he could hardly recognise it belonging to himself.

For some bizarre reason it felt surprisingly good to share his inner self to someone else. Malik felt like a burden was lifted from his shoulders, but he still had yet to receive a judgement from Leonardo. He decided he was going to accept whatever Leonardo was going to say to him without any resistance. The man was a genius; he would know better than a madman like Malik.

But there was no judgement, not even a little bit. The genius inventor smiled sadly at him, before asking him,

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Malik looked at Leonardo stunned.

"No," he answered, because he could not think anything else for an answer. He wasn't even sure he liked the direction the conversation was heading, but he bit back his tongue and waited for Leonardo's reply.

"You have never questioned why you are in Italy out of all the places? Why you don't have parents? Why you can't remember your early childhood?" Leonardo questioned. Malik wanted to scream 'Yes! Yes, all the time, since forever!', but he did not. He simply nodded. Leonardo smiled kindly.

"When you and your brother showed up at my door step all those years ago I didn't know what to do with you, which meant I did the only thing I have ever done."

"You researched us," the words dawned on Malik at the same time with his thoughts.

"Yes. I had a hypothesis back then, which is now pretty much confirmed as a fact based on your story," Leonardo paused his words to take a breath. The genius looked slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden. Malik frowned. Then Leonardo continued,

"The good news is that you are not insane. The bad news is that the visions won't probably stop until all of your previous life's memories have returned to you and there's probably going to be a lot of them, since I'm fairly sure you are not entirely human either." At this Malik tensed up immediately.

"What?!" was the surprised incredulous reaction he had to Leonardo's verdict on his situation. He had decided, he would accept whatever judgement Leonardo would impart on him, but this was ridiculous. He could accept reincarnation with a bit of work, but not being a human was too much. Malik felt like a human, looked like a human and acted like a human, well for the most part, but he definitely was a human.

Then there was his brother to consider, who definitely was just an average human being interested in gossiping with Claudia and having unlucky escapades with women. His brother was a likeable social person with no inhuman qualities in him.

"What about Kadar? He does not have memories from his past life forcing themselves into his head. So what is he then?" Malik asked after mulling over the things Leonardo had said to him. Leonardo grinned and shook his head.

"Have you even asked him?" Leonardo countered raising one of his eyebrows. Malik had not asked his brother, because he had simply assumed he was all alone with his madness. Leonardo had seen completely through him, while Malik had thought himself to be somehow unsolvable puzzle. He would have to ask Kadar and apologise for avoiding him. Malik looked away from the inventor's face into his own feet, suddenly ashamed.

"Then there's the other thing that you are punishing yourself for," Leonardo's voice was as stern as he could make it be, which wasn't very stern at all. Malik turned to look at the inventor.

"First of all you need to stop punishing yourself for it. It won't accomplish anything. Trust me. I've tried it all – fasting, whipping myself, abstinence, cold water baths, everything. It won't work," Leonardo lectured. Malik looked at the genius with his mouth open. The insinuation of the words was something he could barely comprehend.

"It is much more common than one might think, but a great precaution must be taken because the laws are what they are. Though the conclusion I have reached from the failed attempts of curing myself in my youth is that the laws are wrong in this case," Leonardo analysed in a manner which would have in any other time amused Malik, but now the words left him feeling confused, yet somehow relieved.

Leonardo patted Malik in the back in a comforting manner. All Malik could do was look on dumbfounded when Leonardo took his silver sword back into his hands.

"I still need to modify the runes, so don't run out of the door just yet," Leonardo smiled lightly. The inventor grabbed the sword from the hilt and flipped it from one side to another inspecting the runework. Then he went to work, with what amounted to Malik as weird powders, smoke, and banging with a hammer. He really didn't know much of anything about runeworking except that it required inherent magical abilities and a lot of skill.

When he was finally handed his silver sword back the runes were no longer glowing red, but instead purple. He didn't really know what it meant but he trusted Leonardo's abilities, so he simply sheathed the sword back against his hip, where the familiar weight felt comforting. He thanked Leonardo and exited the building.

He would have to find Kadar the next evening and talk about these things. Well about the recurring memory visions. Not about that other thing that was definitely out of the question.

* * *

It was already near dark when Ezio approached the training yard in Monteriggioni. He had planned to have a go at the training dummies, because his usual sparring partners seemed to be unavailable at the time. Malik had secluded himself for a month now and he had only managed to see glimpses of the other hunter once in a while, so that only left Altaïr and Kadar to train with. But he could not spar with Kadar, because Ezio would find his life endangered by an over-protective big brother, despite his aversion to other people Malik seemed to find out about everything. This left only Altaïr to spar with but he had had enough of his ass being handed to him, especially after Malik had decided to start giving the man cold shoulder.

He stopped to listen to the voices coming from the training yard. He could not see the speakers, but he instantly recognised one of the voices as belonging to Malik shouting obscenities at some poor soul. He managed to separate 'novice' from the cacophony of languages and knew his friend was arguing with Altaïr. Ezio smirked and continued his journey onwards.

Sure enough he found Malik and Altaïr arguing about something in the middle of the training ring, both holding practice swords in their hands. The argument seemed to be going nowhere, but he was glad to see Malik out of whatever hidey hole he had been in lately. Kadar was also there looking very confused while watching the argument ascending into a level of insanity.

"Hello, Kadar, my friend," Ezio greeted the man, while moving to lean against the fence Kadar was sitting on.

"Hi, Ezio," Kadar greeted back, still looking confused.

"Did I miss something or what is going on?" he asked genuinely curious, because his friend had been avoiding people like the plague and all of a sudden he was here at the training yard as if nothing had happened. Though he didn't know the reason for his friend's sudden need to be alone in the first place, he had somehow gotten used to the idea of not seeing the man at all, so now that Malik had come out hiding it was also puzzling.

"Your guess is as good as mine," and at that Ezio snorted.

"Malik sought me out yesterday evening. Can you imagine? My brother actually looked for me," Kadar asked rhetorically with disbelief clear in his voice.

"He asked me all sorts of weird things I had no answer for. Today he showed up here, got angry at me and Altaïr, because Altaïr was showing me few things and then decided to challenge Altaïr to a duel. Not a sparring match, Ezio, but a _duel_. What is that even supposed to mean?" Kadar babbled on. Ezio turned to look at the supposed duelers, but all he could see was a match of words unravelling in front of him.

"So, have they fought yet?" Ezio asked. Kadar looked at him funnily.

"No. They haven't yet agreed on the rules," Kadar said exasperated. Ezio burst into laughter.

"So that is what the argument is about," Ezio said greatly amused. This might be good if the two ever managed to settle their argument long enough to actually start the physical fight. Malik was as good fighter as he himself was but fought in a vastly different manner. It would be interesting to see his friend's swift and calculating style against Altaïr, who seemed to fight with inhuman instincts and reflexes.

"Are you two ever going to fight? At this rate my beard is going to turn grey before you even start," Ezio taunted in the hopes of quickening the process. Malik gave him a deadly glare. Ezio chuckled.

"You first need to be able to grow a beard for it to turn white," Malik retorted sarcastically, while pointing at his own ridiculous chin patch. Ezio ignored the insult to his beard growing abilities. He had heard worse things from his friend.

Then the two arguers threw their equipment to the side including the practice swords they had been holding. Ezio quirked his eyebrow at them.

"A fistfight? Really?" Ezio questioned to no one in particular, while the two hunters finally took their fighting stances. Besides him Kadar shrugged. At least there would be bleeding noses and possibly even cracked ribs this way.

Ezio was growing impatient, when neither two moved to make the first attack. They just simply stood there in their stances staring at each other, looking ridiculous. Malik appeared in his low, deep bent knees stance as if he was head shorter than Altaïr though the difference was actually only a few centimetres. Altaïr resembled some ridiculous roman statue with his arms at an awkward angle Ezio didn't quite understand the purpose of.

Apparently Kadar was bored of watching the staring contest going on before them, since he huffed loudly. The stares were deadly, Ezio admitted to himself, but not very entertaining.

"Stop staring each other! We demand entertainment," Kadar suddenly shouted besides him, which did have the desired effect, since the suddenly the fight was full on.

Altaïr was aggressive, fast and could change the direction of his punches seemingly in midair and the punches had impact behind them, probably enough to punch the lights out of someone. Malik alternated between aggressive offence and defence, which meant complicated upper body sways, ground rolls, and at times, even back flips.

Ezio knew his friend's fighting technique well, since they had been going at it since they were children and he knew how Malik favoured using his opponent's own momentum against them. It was an adaptation borne out of the necessity dictated by Ezio's fighting style, where Ezio had the advantage of both reach and strength.

Ezio saw how Altaïr threw a left hook aimed at Malik's head. Immediately Malik reacted with a counter, but the exchange ended up with blood flowing from Malik's nose and Altaïr clutching his side. Ezio narrowed his eyes. Malik was smiling and Altaïr frowning. This was something new he had not seen. Had his friend just gambled that Altaïr would come worse off from the exchange? Because he had never seen him go at anyone, if there was a chance his counter would fail.

Ezio heard Kadar gasp. He wasn't sure what kind of faces he was making, but at least the fight was interesting. Malik seemed to match Altaïr surprisingly well, considering the circumstances.

"Has my brother always been so good at unarmed combat?" Kadar suddenly asked when Malik landed yet another body blow before stepping quickly out of Altaïr's reach. The guardsman's whole face turned into an expression of awe.

"No. I just knocked him unconscious with one punch a while ago. If given a sword, he's undefeated, but this is something I've never seen before," he said while observing the fight. It was as if his friend's reflexes were even faster than what they used to be. He was now starting to itch for a fight so bad that he noticed he had been clenching his fists so hard he was drawing blood with his own nails.

Then Altaïr feinted and this time around Malik fell for it. The white clad hunter was like a blur, when he grabbed one of Malik's arms, spun the man around and bent Malik over the training yard's fence with his other hand going for the neck. So it was over then. Predictably Altaïr was the winner. Ezio was slightly disappointed in the outcome.

The man could constitute as a one man army all by himself. It was surprise in itself that Malik had managed to land any hits on Altaïr because Ezio had certainly not been able to do that himself. He would have to fight Malik as soon as possible to know what had changed, if anything.

"Are you ever going to yield or do you enjoy that position so much you would rather stay like that?" Ezio shouted. Kadar snickered. He could hear Malik curse in a very colourful way, one of the curses sounded suspiciously like, "I'll castrate you and feed your balls to a harpy." Ezio laughed.

Finally an "I yield. Goddammit Altaïr!" could be heard, but Altaïr kept Malik there for an extra few seconds. Ezio snickered. Probably a revenge for all the insults directed towards the other hunter, just because he could.

"I want to learn all that stuff too," Kadar said to him. Ezio knew the man had taken to a bit of hero worshipping of Altaïr as of late. It was evident from the way the man kept badgering him to teach him things.

"I could teach you a thing or a two, you know, my friend," Ezio offered, because he was damned if he wasn't an amazing fighter too. Also, very good looking, which was just a nice bonus.

"No. I want to learn that thing Altaïr did to my brother," Kadar insisted. How annoying.

He kicked himself off the fence and picked up one of the discarded practice weapons so he could go and whack one of the dummies into pieces. He then realised the two hunters had already gathered their gear from the ground and disappeared. He looked around, but didn't see even a trace of them.

"Where did they go?" he asked Kadar, confused. Kadar, who also had left the fence and was obviously about to leave shrugged, but answered,

"They just ran off somewhere without even saying a word." The guardsman then turned around to continue his journey off to somewhere, wherever the man went after a day was over. Ezio didn't know and honestly didn't care either.

Ezio raised the practice sword and started beating up the dummy. He could at least work out some of this pent up energy he had. Maybe afterwards he could hit the brothel. The madame there was nice keeping her doors open for him even in the dead of the night. That sounded like a good plan he decided, as he slashed the head off of the practice dummy.

* * *

Malik woke up to the sensation of someone running a hand down his side. The next thing he registered was being naked in a bed that was definitely not his. An itchy quilt covered him up to his hips. He felt a hot breath to his neck. Opening up his eyes lazily, he saw a room that was infinitely nicer than his own, with luxurious decoration. This was one of the guest rooms in the villa, he realised. Then he remembered what had gone down the previous night. A smirk formed on his lips at the thought.

Malik rolled onto his back and was greeted by a pair of wicked golden eyes staring down at him. He had barely been able to contain his arousal during the sparring match with Altaïr. The final straw had been when the man had bent him over the fence surrounding the training yard. It had taken all of his willpower not to throw his breeches down there and then, when he had realised Altaïr had an erection, which he obviously deliberately flaunted at Malik. Malik regretted nothing. He was feeling too content to care about religion or any other societal norms.

Their sex had been full of fight, rough hands and bites that drew blood. Altaïr was obviously much more experienced of the two of them, but it didn't slow Malik down in his own demands. In many ways it had been an extension of their fight in the training ring, leaving them both in a feeling of mutual satisfaction, in which neither was the loser and both were the winner in the orgasmic bliss.

"Good evening," Altaïr greeted him with a voice that could be only described as smug. Another thing had come up about Altaïr, that related to him on a very deep personal level, besides having had sex with the man. As he had stopped resisting the flashbacks, now coming back to him at a more frequent pace, he had realised he had known Altaïr before. It meant Altaïr was probably much older than what he appeared to be, but then again it would seem he himself had lived at least one lifetime before this one. He shouldn't be surprised about anything at this point, but he was.

"I used to know you before. The friend who couldn't fight and was a cartographer - that was me was it not?" Malik said with sadness. Altaïr closed his eyes, nodded and said simply,

"Yes." He reached for one of Malik's hands giving it a reassuring squeeze. Malik had pieced the information together when Altaïr had started appearing in his visions. He was still missing large chunks of the puzzle leaving him feeling disconnected at times, but he was starting to recognise the kind of man he used to be.

"You recognised me in Venice, which is why you saved me. Which is why you wanted to make friends with me," Malik stated factually. Altaïr opened his eyes, his pupils visibly dilated and Malik wanted to be lost in those eyes for eternity.

"Initially yes, but it's more complicated than that. You are still the same Malik Al-Sayf, but not the same at the same time. I realised this almost immediately after your concussion got better," Altaïr said while running his hand down Malik's abdomen. The atmosphere hung heavy between them.

"Well yes, to begin with I am not going to allow myself to be speared to death twice," Malik teased to lighten the mood. Altaïr winced and Malik regretted his words instantly. He had forgotten what Altaïr had said about seeing his friend killed before his eyes. There was no way to know what it feels like to see someone you love killed and being unable to help them. A silence fell between them.

"Would you like me to tell about the things that went down between us before? How you used to live your life?" Altaïr broke the silence with a contemplative question. Malik sat up. The itchy quilt falling nearly off of him. Altaïr turned his head away as if in shame. He grabbed the man's face between his hands turning it back, then he crashed their lips together.

Altaïr answered the kiss eagerly, snaking one hand around Malik's waist and the other tangling to his hair. Malik tilted his head to gain a better access to Altaïr's mouth, which was promptly granted to him. When they finally separated from the kiss, slightly winded their faces only mere centimetres apart, Malik whispered,

"I want to figure out what happened to me by myself. The memories are coming back and eventually they will be complete. When that happens I will let you know, if you are still around. It is still all very confusing, but this is something I need to do myself." Altaïr nodded. Malik smiled and gave a quick peck at Altaïr's forehead before getting up from the bed. He needed to be out of the door fully clothed as soon as possible to avoid suspicion.

While he collected his haphazardly littered clothes from the floor, he heard Altaïr also stir from the bed. He turned around while attempting to pull his breeches on to see Altaïr also looking for his clothes from the piles of discarded clothes. The man truly was something to behold with his well-defined muscles, broad shoulders and lips that almost begged to be either kissed or put to use around someone's dick. Malik smirked at the thought.

"I'm going to leave Monteriggioni," Altaïr said interrupting Malik's terrible fantasies of blowjobs. Malik frowned. He didn't own the man and he was fully aware the man might leave anytime, but he guessed having sex and figuring out they had a shared past would do weird things to people.

"Will you come back?" Malik asked with an attempt to not sound desperate, but he probably did anyway. He did not want Altaïr to go. He had allowed the man into his personal life, like no others and he did not like to let go of those closest to him.

"I will, but you could also come with me," the hunter suggested. Malik was tempted to say 'yes', but he could not. He had obligations here preventing him from leaving.

"You know I can-not. Not without Auditore permission. I have my duties. The monsters lurking around could keep an army busy and there are only two hunters to deal with them all. Luckily I am very good at whacking monsters to death with a sword," he jested, while at the same time pulling his boots on.

"Not all the monsters wear the face of a beast. Not all of them can be fought with silver swords and physical strength," Altaïr mumbled almost inaudibly. Malik stopped to take a good look at Altaïr.

"I said those words to you. I do not know why, but I did say them to you," he wondered aloud.

"You lectured me, when I said something similar to what you just said. I was just reminded of it, even if our roles were reversed," Altaïr said. Malik stared at the hunter with a frown.

"You did not seriously lecture me right now, did you?"he demanded sternly. Altaïr smirked lopsided.

"I wouldn't even dream of it," was the complacent answer. Malik threw one of Altaïr's boots at the man, which he sadly ducked.


	6. Griffin

A/N: Apparently this account has now permanently less chapters than my AO3 account and I don't really care because this place is dead and nobody seems to care :D

* * *

Malik was frustrated. The emotion was welcomed after months of fearing losing his mind, but it did nothing to lessen the annoyance he was feeling. He had slowly over the course of weeks come to terms with the fact he had already lived once before, but he had yet to accept the way he had been cast aside from any serious monster hunts.

At first he had not paid it much attention, since he was just glad to get out to kill something and to distract himself from what he thought at the time were hallucinations. But as the weeks kept rolling on and after Altaïr had left to do whatever a possibly immortal man did do, he realised he had been chasing endless amounts of animals possessed by evil spirits, while Ezio was killing water hags and basilisks.

The implications were obvious. Giovanni thought him incompetent after the whole issue with the fiend in Venice. It irked him to no end, because he was perfectly qualified to kill bigger monsters. He had been doing so for years, so why was one mistake, which was partially Ezio's fault, counted so heavily against him.

Then there was the issue with Kadar. His brother didn't have the problem with recurring memories, which he himself had, leaving Malik confused about the whole issue. It also didn't help, that he had not yet seen any signs of Kadar in his own memories. The reason for his brother's absence could be dismissed as his memories just not having caught up to that point, afterall it had taken awfully lot of time to see Altaïr in them and even now they were only fragments.

Most of his memories were surrounded by books and sheer wonder at the surrounding environment. He was still feeling rather disconnected to his past life's memories, because while he could recognise himself in them, he really wasn't the same person as he used to be. It was like viewing his own actions through a window at times.

Oddly enough it had been Altaïr who had brought a sense of connection between the past and the present. The familiarity he felt with the other hunter, brought him a sense of peace and belonging. The man was infuriating for the most part, but even that was something Malik found himself missing when Altaïr was gone. There was of course no way he would admit missing an overconfident bastard like Altaïr, but he really did. He felt like he wasn't challenged enough, especially since he wasn't given any demanding missions.

That is how his thoughts had circled back to being frustrated at Giovanni Auditore undermining his abilities. He wanted to be sent on a mission to lop off some creature's head while the blood ran over his arms instead of chasing after demon-possessed chickens and as much as he loved cartography, he had been drawing enough maps to last a lifetime while he had been recovering from his injuries.

He had attempted to subtly hint how his talents could be put to better use elsewhere, but his pleas had fallen to deaf ears. He knew it wasn't his place to openly challenge the head of the Auditores but he was damned if he didn't want to do just that. Luckily there was nothing to stop him whining about it to Ezio, who surprisingly enough sided with him instead of gloating about his superior skills.

That was how he found himself counting the knots in the wooden floor of some peasant's hut, while pretending to listen the story of how the man's cow had disappeared. He had listened such stories by handfuls that evening, because that was apparently now the extent of skills could be used.

"Are you sure your cow didn't just wander off by itself?" he asked the farmer, while attempting to stay neutral in his tone. In reality he wanted to shout in frustration. The man looked at him, as if he was a simpleton, even if the truth was far from it.

"She was in the pasture behind my house. The field is fenced. There's no way to get out from that by herself," the man said agitated. Malik hated dealing with people for this reason. They had their mundane concerns without any aspiration to reach higher.

"Somebody could have opened the gate and let her out. Maybe pranking children or maybe even cattle thieves," Malik suggested. The peasants were way too happy to blame everything that ever happened on supernatural monsters, so it wasn't uncommon for thieving to be blamed on monster attacks. The man didn't look convinced at his suggestion.

"My dog would've started barking, if anyone got too close to the pasture," the man countered, still agitated. Malik sighed. There was no convincing this man. It wouldn't help to tell the man how many ways there were to silence a dog or how somebody with some skill could simply sneak around it.

"Right. I will look into this. Thank you for your cooperation," Malik said stiffly and left the hut.

He stepped outside the hut into the cool night air. He had had enough of researching the bovine stealing monster and decided to look into the matter more hands on. He couldn't deal with any more idiotic peasants shrieking about their cows being taken away in the dead of the night. He decided he would find a cow, hide somewhere nearby and hope for the best, if not he would go back to Monteriggioni stating he could not find anything. He just didn't care enough.

That was until he saw Ezio greeting him with a smug expression.

"Good evening Malik, my friend," Ezio greeted in his usual overly-friendly manner, which included patting Malik in the back and invading his personal space.

"The evening was good until I saw your ugly face," he didn't even attempt to cover his sourness.

"Yes, I kind of thought so, especially since you had such a pleased expression on your face," Ezio jested smugly and threw his arm over Malik's shoulders.

"Why are you even here, Ezio," he asked exasperated, while shrugging Ezio's arm off. He couldn't deal with this now. He wanted the hunter gone.

"I saw your horse and decided to come and see what you were up to," the hunter said with a tone that suggested sincerity.

"Congratulations. I am very thrilled about your interest in me," he said with a voice dripping in sarcasm and threw his arms in the air in annoyance. The other hunter shut his mouth up for a while, giving Malik a chance to start walking towards his horse.

"Chasing after some demon-possessed chicken, are you?" Ezio's voice had nothing nice in it anymore. Malik scowled hard.

"No," he said with utter seriousness. There was no way he would admit to Ezio that he was doing just that. He didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he was solving mysteries involving disappearing cows.

"Really? I could have sworn the farmer was crying after his lost cow," Ezio said with fake contemplation. Malik felt his anger rise to the surface like flood waters breaking through a dam.

"You were eavesdropping," he condemned loudly.

"I did not have to. The man was shouting loud enough to be heard all the way from Monteriggioni, my friend," Ezio gloated. Malik wanted to shout profanities at the peasant and at his friend, who thought he was funny coming to revel in his misery.

"Go away, Ezio. I cannot deal with you right now," he growled while getting on his horse. As soon as he was on his horse he turned away from Ezio, but stopped when he heard,

"Fine. I will go, but if you happen to see a griffin here somewhere let me know," Ezio said sounding annoyed.

"You are targeting a griffin?" he asked in disbelief. Normally griffins were left alone, unless they caused harm on people or their property, which was rare since they tended to stay as far away from humans as possible. They were also quite hard to fight, hence hunters greedy for trophies didn't go after them.

"I am. There is apparently a hefty price on that thing from some collector," Ezio said sounding like he wanted to say something more, but whatever the hunter had wanted to say did not leave his mouth. Malik steered his horse away from the hut and the other hunter in search of a hiding place and a cow.

Finding a cow wasn't a difficult thing to do, the whole Italian countryside was full of them and since the nights were still so warm, there was no reason to shut them inside either. Having the cows on pasturing was easier for the peasants, because they wouldn't have to feed them either.

He dismounted his horse and tied it down to the fence surrounding the meadow. He gave the horse a quick pat on the neck, before leaving to find a hiding place. He didn't want to be seen or smelled by the cow thief, so he could capture them red handed and be done with the whole farce.

He managed to find a thick enough bush to lie under, so he could still see the grazing cow. It took some wiggling to make himself reasonably comfortable. There were still few branches sticking into him and a rock pressing awkwardly against his right shoulder, but he could manage.

His thoughts returned to Ezio's hunt for a griffin, which was an odd thing. They did accept contracts, like the one in Venice, but they didn't go after monsters purely for the money, or that is what he had thought. Until now there had been an underlining reason behind killing a creature, but killing something to add to someone's collection wasn't in line with the logic. He found himself questioning the logic behind Giovanni Auditores decisions even more than he had.

He lay under the thicket for over an hour, while ruminating on his thoughts and was about to give up, when something happened. He had started to hope nothing would happen, because he didn't really care enough about peasants and their cows, but there was no denying of the sounds he heard.

A sound of wings flapping through the wind broke the silence of the night. Malik could not see the creature making the sounds, as the shrubbery blocked his view to the sky. But the sound was starting to become louder, indicating that the maker of the noises was closing in. The wings had to be big ones to make so much noise, and judging from the slow rhythm they had, made it safe to assume the creature they belonged to was also a big one. The words Ezio had imparted with came to his mind.

Then he saw it; a great griffin landed on the poor cow still grazing unsuspectingly on the pasture. The griffin was almost twice the size of the cow with colourful fur and feathers. The cow mooed and squirmed in panic.

Malik scrambled out of the hiding place. A twig pricked his skin open under his right eye. He managed to get on his feet just in time to see the griffin take off with the still living cow.

He made a mad dash to his horse so he could follow the beast. He grabbed the reins and removed them forcefully from the fence they were tied to frowning when it broke from his handling of the reins. The horse was visibly agitated with its head held high.

Malik jumped on and as soon as he was seated the horse took off, unable to stay still from being so nervous. He didn't mind since all he had in his mind was following the griffin. He ushered his horse into full gallop to make up the distance between himself and the beast.

It wasn't terribly hard to follow such a large beast flying through the silent night sky. The wings made a loud noise and the cow was mooing making it easy to track the griffin. He rode through several meadows, jumping over a few fences on the way and through a small forest dodging trees while doing so, until he reached what was the griffin nest.

The cow stopped mooing, so he assumed the griffin had finally killed its prey. The nest was atop a cliff in a very typical fashion to griffins. He dismounted and tied his exhausted horse to a tree. Now that he knew where the griffin nested he had all the time in the world to plan for the best action.

He snuck around the cliff, careful to avoid being detected by the beast. Hundreds of bones littered around the nesting ground, which mostly consisted of bovine bones. The griffin was the most likely candidate for the missing cows, he decided. Not a normal thing for a griffin, but not completely unheard either.

Malik had now two options to choose from on how to proceed. Ezio had been assigned to kill a griffin, which most likely was this exact one, which meant he could go back to Monteriggioni and notify the location of the nest.

Or he could kill the griffin himself, since he was assigned to deal with the problem of missing cows. The griffin was, after all, taking the cows and killing them. He could then bring the head as a trophy and notify Giovanni Auditore where the rest of the body was located. He would kill two birds with one stone and end up proving himself to be capable of doing things more challenging than chasing after demonic chicken.

With a face full of determination he set to the task of killing the griffin. He would have to incapacitate the creature's wings, so it wouldn't take off into the air. The griffin was not nearly as fast, nor as deadly as the fiend he and Ezio had been fighting, but it did have a lot physical strength and since the beast wasn't demonic, salt or silver wouldn't work against it. He would have to defeat the creature with old fashioned violence.

The griffin was gorging on the cow, ripping pieces off meat of the carcass, as Malik made his way up the cliff. The griffin's beak was covered in blood and entrails were stuck between its claws. Malik crunched his nose in disgust at the sight. He made sure he did not step on any bones or anything else that would give his presence away to the animal. He had to be the one to surprise the griffin if he wanted to win this.

He had made it only a few metres away from the griffin thanks to the animal being distracted by crunching loudly through the cow's ribcage and chewing on its heart and lungs as if they were the sweetest honey in the world. Malik drew a dagger. He was coiled up in anticipation, with his whole body tense waiting for the right moment to pounce on the unsuspecting griffin.

Then the griffin shifted its tail to the side, making Malik spring into action. He sprinted towards the creature and jumped between its wings. The griffin attempted to turn around and bite him in two with its strong beak, but Malik was faster managing to avoid the creature. He gripped the wing with his left hand and at the same time struck the dagger into the base of the wing as hard as he could, with his right hand. The creature screamed in pain. Malik smiled in satisfaction.

The griffin then reared in an attempt to take off into the sky, making Malik fall off. He rolled backwards to ease the landing, but knew he would have a few bruises. The griffin flapped uselessly with its other wing, while letting out ear shattering screeches. Malik felt like his ears might start bleeding.

He got to his feet as quickly as he could and drew his sword. He lunged at the beast, which was still attempting to escape through the air. He sunk his blade into the side of the griffin while avoiding the erratic movements of its various limbs. A spray of blood erupted from the stab wound colouring him in red from head to toe. The griffin reacted by turning violently towards him and managed to throw him off balance when the beast's body slammed into his own.

He put slightly more distance between himself and the griffin to recover his stance. The griffin was still oozing blood onto the bone-covered ground. Malik attempted to wipe some of the blood out of his face but only managed to smear it more. The griffin ruffled itself to appear bigger and more intimidating.

Malik attacked again. He dodged the strong beak which snapped close right next to his head. He avoided the front paws, which one of them ripped a gash in his cloak. He dived under the creature's chest and plunged his sword to the griffin's furry chest, where he hoped to reach the heart or at least puncture a lung. More warm blood flowed on him by the bucketful as he sunk his sword in ever so deeper.

The griffin screamed in pain while uselessly thrashing with its front limbs. Malik nearly lost his grip on the sword as his hands had become so slicked from the blood coating him. He pushed his sword in to the hilt and then withdrew it. He rolled away from under the griffin to put some distance between himself and the creature.

The monster's attention was all drawn to the puncture wound in its chest, which the creature attempted erratically reach without much success. Then the beast fell down causing a small shockwave, which rattled the bones littered all around the ground. The griffin drew a few spastic breaths before letting out a gurgling sound as it choked on its own blood.

Everything was eerily silent. Malik's breath sounded like thunder in the silence. He felt tingles go through his body. He was so high on the post-battle feelings he didn't even notice when he had cut off the griffin's head. He cleaned his sword in a daze while the monotonous movements lulled him more into himself. He felt content in the way he had not fel in months. He was powerful. He was challenged. He had purpose. He was alive!

He snapped back into the present only when he was already half way back to Monteriggioni. The head hung strapped to the back of the saddle dripping blood on the horse's flank.

* * *

Ezio looked on annoyed when a bloodied griffin's head was thrown on his father's desk. The impact shook the objects on the desk and a few papers fell off. He had his arms crossed and brows furrowed. He was fairly sure Malik had just taken his kill. He had spent the entire night and three previous nights tracking the griffin without a success, but as soon as he had told Malik he had a griffin to kill the hunter had turned up with a griffin's head. It was quite the coincidence, especially since his friend was tracking a cow-killing monster.

He made an eye contact with his father, who looked disapproving and slightly disgusted, judging from the way he wrang his nose. Malik was covered from head to toe in blood and entrails, looking pleased with himself. Though the hunter attempted to appear cool, he knew his friend was feeling very good about himself by the way he was currently not currently. Malik's face was set on two basic emotion, which were an angry frown and a furious scowl, but almost never indifference.

"What is this?" his father asked while motioning with his hands towards the monster head. The blood was staining the desk red.

"It is a griffin. Well, technically it was a part of a griffin. Specifically a head of a griffin," Malik answered nonchalantly while shrugging his shoulders.

"I know what it is, but you were supposed to be finding the culprit behind the disappearing cows, while Ezio was after the griffin," father said with a condemning voice

"I did find the culprit for the bovine disappearances. The griffin took them and flew them into its nest, where it killed and ate them. I killed the griffin, since that was my mission. The cattle should be safe for now," Malik countered with a tone suggesting annoyance. Ezio couldn't take it. Malik had stolen his target and was now attempting to justify his deeds.

"The griffin was my kill!"Ezio burst out angrily. Both Malik and his father turned to look at him.

"What does it matter whose kill it was? It is killed and the peasants can sleep easy without having to worry about their cows being taken from the pastures," Malik questioned impatiently and rolled his eyes at him, as if Ezio was a simpleton.

"I was assigned to kill the griffin and you knew it! I told you when we parted ways at the farmer's cottage," Ezio snarled.

"I was supposed to just leave my target, because it also happened to be your target?" Malik asked with exaggerated disbelief while wildly waving his arms around.

"Yes!" He full on shouted. He could not understand why the other hunter did not realise that he had stepped into a territory that did not belong to him in the slightest.

"I thought it was the end result that mattered," Malik defended and crossed his arms.

"You should have reported back here and waited for new orders. You were aware of Ezio being sent after a griffin and decided to ignore that knowledge," his father interrupted their argument.

"What is this? I did not break any orders. Why am I painted as if I did?" Malik argued back with aggravation clear in his voice and a posture that demanded respect from everyone around him. The reason he was angry at his friend wasn't just because he had trambled on his kill, but also done so with some mystical god given right, which had been emanating from the man with an increasing frequency. He had grown sick and tired of Malik's frequent undermining of everyone around him, especially when he himself had finally managed to prove to his father he was a competent hunter.

"You did not break orders, but you did not follow them as they should have been followed," his father said with authority. Malik looked as if somebody had slapped him in the face. Ezio smirked. He was pleased his father had for once taken his side on the matter.

"For what reason should I have reported back? I am perfectly capable of judging whether or not I am able to take down a target as you can see." Malik looked like he wanted to rip someone's head off.

"It is not your call to make. We need to follow protocol!" Ezio countered. He slammed his fist to the wall next to him. A painting fell off the wall, shattering into pieces. He was boiling. If Malik had reported back, he would have been deployed to deal with the griffin, but now there was nothing else to do, but go to the nest and pick up the body.

"Yes because protocol was followed so well in Venice, was it not, Ezio?" Malik looked at him with a deadly scowl and voice full of venom.

"I do not know what you are talking about, my friend," he feigned ignorance. This was a completely different matter, but of course Malik would not just forget things like this. The man had a talent for remembering everything that ever happened and twist the truth on its head.

"Of course you do not," the voice Malik used was simply pure evil and his gaze full of predatory malignant intent. He hated the man more than anyone in the entire universe at the moment, and yet for some reason he felt he was playing with fire when he challenged the hunter. It was a stupid thought though, because no matter how terrible a human being Malik was, he did not use unnecessary violence.

"Enough!" his father shouted, effectively shutting them both up and making them return their attention to him.

"Ezio, go and cool your head. This doesn't concern you," his father said sternly while directing his disapproving gaze at him. He let his own disappointment show on his face, but turned around to make it out. He was furious at Malik.

He closed the door behind him and heard his father muffled through it saying,

"And you Malik. What am I supposed to do with you?"

'Hopefully give him a beating,' Ezio thought to himself.

* * *

"Help me here will you, brother?" Kadar said while sitting on Malik's bed watching his brother hunched over a map. Malik gave him a glance over his shoulder before returning back to map making.

"But how exactly did you get yourself grounded?" Kadar asked because the whole affair was a mess with Ezio looking like somebody had taken a piss to his food and his brother looking like he had been denied some basic human right. He did know it somehow involved a griffin and cows but that was the extent of his knowledge.

"I did not 'get grounded' as you put it. I was punished for speaking against the master," Malik answered defensively while not looking up from his map and doing a dismissive gesture with his quill. Kadar noted how his brother used the word 'master' for Giovanni Auditore, which meant Malik was more hurt than he let on.

"What's the difference? You are not going out on any assignments for a whole month," Kadar countered, though he was not even sure what he was trying to achieve with his statement. Malik turned to look at him with murder written all over his face. At least he succeeded in getting his brother's attention. Kadar put on his biggest smile.

"The difference is something your brain is obviously unable to comprehend," Malik spat venomously before scrunching up the map he was working on and throwing it at Kadar. The crunched up map hit Kadar in the forehead. His brother turned back to his desk, and took a new paper out of the small pile sitting on top of it. Kadar straightened the crumbled up map except it was not a map, but a sheet full of crude drawings of violence happening to various people. He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

A silence stretched between them. Malik seemed to be content to ignore him infinitely but Kadar wasn't about to be dismissed so easily. He decided to try to approach the subject a slightly differently.

"So, I was thinking -" Malik interrupted him with a snort. Kadar rolled his eyes at his brother's display of immaturity and then continued,

"Anyway, I was thinking since you don't have to go anywhere for a month, why don't you change your sleeping patterns back to normal? In fact now that I think about it why didn't you do so after Venice?" Kadar asked hoping to make his brother see reason. If Malik returned back to normal daily life he would have more time to spend with him. He was sure his brother needed only to socialise more and it was nearly impossible to do when Malik spent his days asleep.

Malik stopped whatever he was doing, putting down his quill and turned around to face Kadar. Malik sighed, leaned on his desk and crossed his arms. He looked like he was contemplating hard on what to say next, judging from the way he had his brows furrowed.

"I tried. I really tried but I could not. It is as if I am hard wired to fall asleep come morning and wake up in the evening. People are not supposed to operate like that," Malik said with a weary voice. What his brother was saying was insane and Malik even seemed to be aware of it.

"What do you mean?" Kadar asked in disbelief. Malik gave him a glare.

"It means just that. I cannot sleep during the nights as normal people would," Malik said annoyed, shrugging as if he didn't care. Kadar attempted to think a solution for his brother's problem but could not come up with anything. He was still convinced Malik should go out more because he felt like his brother was slowly turning into something unrecognizable and he was sure it had everything to do with the way Malik isolated himself.

"But people are meant to sleep at night," Kadar insisted because he could not think anything better to say. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Your comprehension clearly exceeds that of an average individual," Malik delivered with sarcasm dripping from each word. Kadar cringed.

"But don't you want to be like all the other people? Don't you want to fit in?" Kadar asked because there just had to be something he could do for his brother.

"No. What I want is to go out there and lob off some monster's head. What I want is for the master not to undermine my abilities by sending me after demonic chickens! I do not care what people think about me!" Malik snapped at him while fuming furiously. Now Kadar understood what this all meant. His brother wanted recognition and had attempted to get it by stealing Ezio's assignment, but the plan had backfired. Now Malik had his pride hurt and was at odds with Ezio. All the more reasons he needed to try and get his brother to go out.

Maybe he could introduce Malik to a girl. He was sure Claudia would help him to get his brother hooked up. If his brother had something else to think about in his life, apart from map making and monster hunting, he could forget his stupid pride and his feud with Ezio. Kadar grinned. His plan was perfect though he would have to try and work around his brother's impossible daily routines somehow.

"What you need, brother, is to get laid," Kadar said smugly despite the dangerous way Malik was regarding him currently. Malik looked at him as if he were touched in the head.

"What?!"

"You need to find a woman, get laid and possibly even have a romance. I'm sure there's bound to be at least one woman in this country who isn't scared of your looks," Kadar managed to barely finish his sentence when he saw his brother leap towards him with the most terrifying expression he had ever seen.

The next thing he knew, he was standing outside Malik's door with the slightly crumpled not-map still in his hand. He could hear the door being locked behind him.

"What just happened?" he wondered to himself stunned.

As he decided to walk away he remembered the paper in his hand. He decided to discard it in the nearest flower pot or whatever he could find, but before doing so he took a quick look at the drawings. The other side had the crude drawings but on the other side was a drawing of what he assumed was Altaïr without his hood. He had never actually had an unobstructed view of Altaïr but he assumed it was him from the clothing and the scar on the man's face. Now that was odd. Why would his brother draw a picture of Altaïr? As far as he knew Malik hated the man since they were always arguing with each other and looking ready to rip each other's heads off.

Kadar shrugged. 'Who knew his brother's motivations,' he thought and threw the drawing away.

* * *

Malik found himself sitting on a tree branch staring at the starry sky while contemplating his situation. He was feeling lonely in a way he never had before. Ezio held a disdain towards him, his brother thought his problems would be solved with more socialising, and Altaïr was gone. However he did not want Ezio to hate him, he did not want his brother attempt to push him towards people and he wanted Altaïr to come back from wherever the man had gone.

He sighed and plucked a leaf off the tree, which he started dissecting into pieces. He had no idea how to reconcile himself with Ezio because his intention had not been to injure his friend's pride to begin with, but the situation had somehow spiralled out of control. Malik still thought Giovanni Auditore had been wrong in his judgement and felt like he owed no apology to anyone.

He was furious at the decision to punish him with a month away from active duty. He was not even allowed to leave the walls of Monteriggioni which he thought was definitely going overboard. He had to restrain himself everytime he saw Ezio leaving for an assignment because he could see the man gloating smugly at his own misfortune, which of course widened the rift between them even further.

He was made to feel useless which he supposed was the purpose of his punishment. As he had no other talents besides hunting for monsters and his cartography, he did not have much to do when monster hunting was deducted from the equation. He was not like his brother who could invent endless ways of busying himself.

He cringed when thinking of the last conversation he had with his brother. Kadar had obviously reflected his own desires on Malik but it did not make the suggestion any less repulsive. It was not even the first time Kadar had attempted to coerce him into socialising or wooing a girl.

This time around the situation was different for him though. He found himself missing Altaïr almost painfully, which was stupid he knew, but still could not help it. He could not obviously tell his brother about his illegal and morally dubious relationship with Altaïr. He just wished the man would hurry up and return or he would find a way to beat him to pulp through the sheer willpower of his thoughts.

It was not even the sex he was missing, though he did miss that too, but the countless arguments they had in the small hours of a night. The way he was challenged everytime Altaïr appeared in his presence, which was something neither Kadar nor Ezio were ever able to reproduce. Kadar did not have the patience to educate himself and Ezio was a brute with his mind set on sleeping with as many girls as he could and killing as many monsters as he possibly could.

He sighed, again, this time in defeat. He heard a door open somewhere in his left but paid it no mind. He started counting the stars as a means to clear his mind of all the emotions occupying it, even if it was just for a little while.

"Malik? Is that you sitting in the tree like an owl?" He recognised the voice belonging to Leonardo. All of a sudden he felt like an idiot for forgetting Leonardo's existence. He slapped himself in the face and groaned. He jumped down, landing almost silently.

Leonardo was smiling looking very amused. The artist wore paint-stained clothes as usual. Leonardo had probably been working on a project, making him forget to sleep.

"Come on inside. I will make you tea and I might even have some cookies somewhere," Leonardo said before giving Malik a hug. Malik sighed in relief. Leonardo moved to the door gesturing Malik to follow.

"I can see from your face, something troubles you, my friend," Leonardo said slightly concerned.

"Yes. I guess you could put it like that," Malik answered and after considering what to say next he continued, "It has something to do with bovine-eating griffins, prideful Italians, misunderstanding little brothers, and imbecile ugly-faced Syrians."

Leonardo chuckled good-naturedly.

"In that case, I suppose I need to make an extra-large pot of tea," Leonardo offered, which already made Malik feel better. He allowed a small smile to creep on his face.


	7. Cockatrice in the graveyard

A/N: This chapter may read weirdly because I had to censor parts of it. Just go to my AO3 account for the uncensored story. It is posted there under the penname Sorsa

* * *

The long warm Italian summer turned into wet autumn finally ending Malik's punishment. Unfortunately as the temperature cooled down the feud between Malik and Ezio did not. The Italian persisted in his contempt towards Malik every time they saw each other which in turn served to make him even angrier.

The situation escalated from verbal insults into open warfare between the two of them. Once even Kadar had been caught between the two of them, earning himself a black eye in the process of trying to tear the two enraged hunters from each other's throats.

But not all was bad as Giovanni Auditore had seen Malik fit to take on more challenging monsters once again. The decision had irked Ezio even more because apparently everything Malik ever did these days was an open insult to the other hunter's abilities.

Unfortunately he had not been able to shake off Kadar's insistence on him socialising more and countless arguments had risen from the subject. Somehow his brother had gotten into his head that he needed desperately new friends and a woman. He found himself being on the verge of accidentally admitting he had never had any interest in women just to silence Kadar and avoiding his brother all together.

He was brought out of his thoughts as he heard a high-pitched screech echo in the empty graveyard in Florence. He had been sent to kill a cockatrice that had taken to living in the graveyard, making all the locals afraid to approach the place.

He moved among the tombstones and overgrown dead grass as he attempted to locate the cockatrice among the graves. It was pouring rain, forcing him to have his hood up, and the ground was soggy with mud. Malik frowned in disgust as the mud stained the hems of his cloak along with his boots.

He stalked around a corner of a mausoleum while running his hand on the cool slippery surface of it. He drew his sword as he heard another screech the cockatrice made this time closer to him than before. The rain had made the handle slippery even though the sword had been under his cloak away from direct downpour.

He took careful steps towards the noise as he did not want to alert the cockatrice to his approach. But before he found the monster, it had found him. The cockatrice ran over him making him slip on the slippery stones as he tried to avoid the attack. His sword clattered out of his hand.

Malik cursed as he scrambled for his sword but the monster had different ideas. The cockatrice jumped between him and the sword, shrieking while attempting to slash Malik with its clawed hind legs. Malik rolled out of reach straight into mud.

The cockatrice followed. He reached for a bomb and threw it into the monster's face where it exploded with a bang. The cockatrice cawed in pain giving Malik time to get his dagger. He jumped on the monster and sunk his dagger into one of its wing.

The blinded beast snapped its beak close to his shoulder effectively ripping a piece of his cloak in the process. Malik jumped off, landed on the mud and picked his sword up once again. He charged at the cockatrice and unceremoniously sliced its head off with his sword two-handed.

Blood sprayed from the creature's neck, covering him in blood in addition to the mud already on him. The body fell off to the muddy ground. He stood there dazed looking at the cockatrice's severed head, holding his sword attempting to catch his breath for a long time. He moved only when he heard a familiar voice speaking to him.

"And here I thought I would have the chance to rescue you a second time," said the cocky voice belonging to no other than a white-robed, annoying bastard who leaned oh-so-casually against the mausoleum. Malik moved swiftly.

Altair continued, "What is it with you and we –" but Malik cut Altaïr short with a punch to the man's face with his non-sword hand.

"Shut up," Malik hissed, and then yanked the surprised Altaïr to a kiss. Altaïr wrapped his arms around Malik as he responded to the kiss after the initial surprise of Malik's actions had worn off. They stood there kissing in the middle of a night in a graveyard with a terrible downpour, Malik covered in mud and blood still holding his sword while a cockatrice's corpse bled out a few metres away from them, and Malik thought the moment could not be any more perfect.

As they separated Altaïr's white robes had horrible mud smears on them. Malik grinned in the satisfaction the whole situation brought him. Altaïr still looked horribly smug with his lopsided grin.

"Not exactly the greeting I was expecting," Altaïr said while complacency practically radiated from the man. Malik attempted to scowl but failed miserably as he was just too happy to see the other hunter.

"I do not know what you were expecting," Malik answered nonchalantly as he moved to pick his dagger up from the corpse.

"A kiss before the punch?" Altaïr suggested. Malik laughed. Altaïr grinned. For a while everything was just as it should be.

"Come. Let us move this discussion elsewhere," Malik said while already moving away from the scene.

"I have a room in an inn not very far away from here. You are welcome to join me," Malik conversed while they walked through the empty streets. All the citizens were either sleep or indoors away from the bad weather. The water ran in streams on the streets carrying all sorts garbage along.

They made it to the inn where the unfortunate innkeeper was still awake as he was waiting for Malik to return so he could lock the place up for the night. The man gave Malik a disapproving glare but did not say anything. The innkeeper probably was not very impressed in the way he was leaving a muddy trail behind him.

"He is a fellow hunter of mine. He will stay the day with me. Is that good with you?" Malik asked the innkeeper out of politeness even though he had made his mind about Altaïr. The innkeeper nodded in response as the man probably did not want the ire of a monster hunter directed towards his person. Having a perpetual angry frown did have its perks occasionally. Malik smirked in satisfaction.

They made it to the small room Malik had in the inn. He locked the door behind himself as he did not want to be disturbed. He wanted to be rid of the wet muddy clothes as soon as he could and wash out the grime covering his face and hands.

Altaïr seemed to have similar ideas as the hunter had already stripped down to his breeches. Malik took off his cloak and inspected the gash in it briefly before hanging it to dry. He shook off his robes and boots until he too was wearing his breeches only.

As Malik was cleaning his face a pair of arms circled him from behind. Altaïr leaned against him while attempting to sneak one of his hands into his breeches. Malik gave the man sideways glare.

"No," Malik said sternly. Altaïr looked as if he did not understand what he was saying.

"I am just helping you to get rid of these dirty clothes," Altaïr whispered in to Malik's ear. Malik snorted as he turned around to face Altaïr, still holding a rag in his hand. It wasn't like Malik didn't want to ravage the man right there and then – his body most certainly agreed with the notion – but his rationale told him they were in grave danger. He could not control the environment the way he could in Monteriggioni.

"We cannot be doing this here. If we are caught it will be the end for the both of us," Malik lectured in a low voice. Altaïr was still grinning smugly as Malik directed a hard glare at the man.

"The door is locked, there are no windows, and it's the middle of the night. We just need to be quiet." Altaïr smirked lopsided. Malik sighed. Altaïr did have logic behind his statement.

* * *

They collapsed in silent agreement on the wooden floor. Their limbs were dangled with each other as they cuddled. Altaïr looked like a lazy cat content on lying in its favourite resting place forever, which apparently was partially on top of Malik.

"That's how one has sex silently," Altaïr said sleepily while wrapping his arms around Malik as if he was a big teddy bear. Malik rolled his eyes and cuffed Altaïr half-heartedly on the head before settling to run his fingers through the man's hair.

"Novice."

"Only for you. Only for you, Malik," came the tired reply. Malik could not help smiling. He had been missing Altaïr so badly even if he was not ever going to admit it aloud.

He would have to leave for Monteriggioni the next evening. He was hoping Altaïr would follow him back home but these were things he needed to worry when the time came; currently he was content on lying on a floor of some inn in Florence with Altaïr. Even if he was bound to have his back hurting when he woke up. He frowned.

"Get up. I want to go to the bed," Malik demanded and shook Altaïr who had fallen asleep.

"What?" came the unintelligible response.

"Get up, Altaïr. I do not want my back hurting come morning."

* * *

Altaïr did follow him back to Monteriggioni. The journey back took them the entire night because they had to ride through roads which had turned into sludge from the constant rainfall. The horses struggled to keep their balance, constantly slipping or having their feet stuck in the mud.

The rain kept falling obscuring the sky and stars. They had to keep their hoods on to avoid being soaked to the bones but the water would still breach through their breeches from the front where their legs were unprotected.

When they finally arrived in Monteriggioni their horses had mud reaching half way through their flanks and they themselves were in a similar condition with mud caking up to their knees. Malik felt tired and cranky from the whole ordeal and judging from the frown on Altaïr's face the other hunter was not faring much better.

Malik waded through the town with Altaïr in tow. The morning was almost upon them, making Malik have his mind set solely on giving his report as quickly as possible, throwing his wet dirty clothes off and hitting the bed.

He entered Giovanni Auditore's office. Altaïr followed him inside and leant on the wall next to the door. Malik noted how they had both left muddy footprints behind them. He sighed tiredly.

"Malik, you are back from Florence and you've brought Altaïr with you it would seem," Giovanni Auditore greeted him looking like he had just woken up, which considering the time of day was more than likely.

"Yes. I ran into him during my assignment in the city. He followed me back after I was done with the cockatrice," Malik responded trying to keep his voice from showing any emotions.

"That's fine. I don't mind him here. Now give me the report," Giovanni said. Malik frowned and glanced at Altaïr who had schooled his face into showing no emotion. He had thought there would have been more discussion on why Altaïr was back since the situation was vastly different than it had been in Venice. The whole thing made him suspicious and he decided he would interrogate Altaïr about it as soon as they were out of the room.

"I found the cockatrice on the graveyard like the locals had described. It had taken into living there permanently and attacked anyone if they dared to enter the place. I killed the creature by cutting its head off," and made out with Altaïr afterwards but he was not going to tell that in his report. Giovanni Auditore nodded in response.

"You are dismissed. I won't have need for you for a few days," Giovanni said and then directed his words towards Altaïr before continuing,

"And you may stay in the same guest room as before." Altaïr nodded and made it out of the room with Malik.

Malik stopped and turned to face Altaïr as they had made further away from the office. He crossed his arms and scowled as he attempted to think for his next words.

"What have you done to warrant a permanent invitation to the Auditore villa?" he asked in whispers as he was sure the answer was something not meant to be heard by common folk though he doubted anybody could understand them talking in Arabic. Altaïr smirked.

"An ancestor of mine made a pact with the Italian hunters where they would provide food and shelter among other things if need be. In exchange the Syrian hunters would do the same," Altaïr said nonchalantly while shrugging his shoulders as if to accentuate how much of a non-issue the thing was. Malik was couldn't decide whether he should be amused, frustrated or what. He settled on sarcastic.

"Do you even have an ancestor?" he asked.

"No," Altaïr answered simply.

"You made the pact, did you not?" Malik asked rhetorically already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

Malik groaned in frustration and rolled his eyes. Why everything in his life had to be so convoluted these days? He wanted to go back to the days, where he pretended everything he had ever known and cared for was killing monsters but then he took a good look at Altaïr and he could not decide whether he wanted to punch or fuck the man which for reasons that belied any reason made him want to stay in the present situation forever. Absolutely everything was so difficult.

"You are frowning again," Altaïr said smugly. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Thank you captain obvious."

* * *

Malik was in the middle of pulling his boots on when his door opened. The rain had stopped during the day judging from the lack noise the water made as it hit the ground. Why he could hear the rain through thick stonewalls was something he did not want to delve too much into but the fact remained he had heard the person entering his chambers already long before his door was opened.

The intruder was Kadar. This was nothing new as his brother tended to make rude uninvited visits to him where he just barged through the door without any regard towards Malik. He could lock the door to keep his brother away but he rarely did so because despite his annoyance at his brother he never wanted Kadar to feel unwelcome.

What was different about his brother this time was the sling on his right arm and the black eye he sported. Malik scowled hard as worry shot him. He sprung on his feet with the left boot still unfastened on his feet.

"Hello brother," Kadar greeted as if nothing had happened.

"What happened?" Malik asked, voice laced with worry. Somebody had clearly hurt his brother while he had been gone which was unacceptable.

"I, uh. No, never mind," Kadar stuttered in his speech. Malik narrowed his eyes to examine his brother closely.

"I – I kind of sparred with Ezio and –"

But before Kadar could finish his sentence, something snapped inside Malik's head. It must have shown on his face too because Kadar's eyes widened in shock.

"Don't hurt Ezio. We sparred in mutual understanding," Kadar blurted out in defence of Ezio, but Malik had put two and two together already. Ezio had knowingly asked Kadar to spar while he had been gone because the Italian knew how to get to him. Ezio had broken his brother's arm because of the feud between him and Malik. This was unacceptable.

"No," Malik said sternly. Kadar looked at him in disbelief.

"No? You will leave him alone?" Kadar asked him surprised.

"No. I will break him apart and feed the pieces to the nearest monster I find. And then I will leave him alone!" Malik growled before running out of the room.

He ran through the villa in search of the idiot who had dared to break his brother's arm. Everything passed through his eyes in a flurry with his mind set on only one purpose. The white-hot rage blinded him to his surroundings.

He found Ezio in the training yard with Altaïr. The bastard did have the decency to drop his smug smirk in favour of clear disdain. In the end there was only surprise written on Ezio's features as Malik's fist connected with the Italian's face probably breaking his nose in the process.

Ezio landed on his ass with the practice sword clattering out of his hand while the other went for his now bleeding nose. Malik was about to jump after the man so he could instill more injury on the hunter but Altaïr blocked his way and his brother seemed to materialise somewhere next to him.

"Move!" he shouted in anger as he saw Ezio scramble on his feet.

"No," Altaïr answered.

"Move it, you dimwitted novice!" he growled and charged to go around the man, but Altaïr blocked him once again. He was consumed with the need to beat Ezio's face in, making it the only thought in his mind.

"No, I won't," Altaïr responded with surprising calmness.

"Move! He hurt Kadar!" Malik shouted and attempted to force Altaïr out of his way. Altaïr did not budge but took hold of him, effectively rooting Malik in place against his will. He tried to squirm his way out.

"What you are doing here is avenging a person who does not want to be avenged. I will not move," Altaïr said sternly. Malik stopped his struggling since it was futile anyway.

"Kadar's arm will heal. He is not dead and beating Ezio won't help his arm heal any faster," Altaïr continued. Malik sighed, counted to ten in his mind and gave Altaïr a pleading look.

"Please, release me," he asked as calmly as he could. Altaïr seemed to be judging him whether or not he would lunge at Ezio once again. After a while the arms holding him in place loosened. Malik took few steps backwards before turning around to head somewhere where he could cool his head. He took a quick glance over his shoulder where Altaïr stood his arms crossed, Kadar looked uncomfortable and Ezio seemed confused.

"You are still a shit, Ezio," Malik snapped in a farewell.

* * *

"Why does my brother have a broken nose?" Claudia demanded while looking very agitated.

Kadar stopped his journey towards Leonardo's workshop as he heard the words of his best friend. He had known Claudia would appear to demand answers from him but he had tried to avoid the situation as best he could. But he was not exactly inconspicuous walking around with his broken arm on the sling so detection was unavoidable.

"Because my brother is an idiot?" he suggested. He was angry at his brother's action even though he had known Malik would react violently as soon as he found out what had happened. This was not even about his broken arm but about the stupid row Ezio and Malik had going on between them for months. Kadar just happened to be a convenient excuse for Malik to use violence against Ezio, as he was sure his brother had been itching to find any reason to attack the hunter.

Sometimes he just didn't get his brother at all and one of those times had been yesterday, when he had been sure Malik would have even hit him just to get to Ezio. Luckily Altaïr had happened to be there because he had been too afraid of his own brother to intervene. The way Altaïr had calmly taken on his brother's rage was something to admire as he had barely been able to stand in the sidelines without succumbing to his base desire of running away from the situation.

"Yes. That is not new and it does not answer why he attacked my brother out of the blue," Claudia kept pressing while rolling her eyes. Kadar sighed. He didn't want to fight his friend over the matter that was between their elder brothers.

"If you asked Malik he would say it was because of my broken arm, but I think it's all about the stupid griffin feud," Kadar answered sincerely. Claudia looked at him funnily as if she could not decide if he was crazy or ignorant.

"That was months ago, Kadar. How could they still be fighting over it?" Claudia asked with disbelief. The question was one he kept asking himself over and over because no matter how many times he had asked his brother about it the answer had never made any sense. The situation had reached a ridiculous point which was far over-blown considering the original argument had been basically a glorified cock fight. Kadar sighed.

"I don't know. I've tried to take Malik's mind away from it but he persists on keeping the fight going," Kadar admitted, defeated. But it was true; he had tried his hardest to make his brother socialise more to take his mind off the argument and his grounding in Monteriggioni. It had not worked in the slightest.

"It's just that it's horrible to be around when they are fighting like that," Claudia uttered in frustration. Kadar could not do anything but agree with her. The atmosphere had been horrible as of late. Ezio and Malik had both so much presence over Monteriggioni that even normal citizen were feeling the tension in the air. To make them stop their ridiculous feud would be in everyone's interest but so far nobody had been successful.

"Yeah," he answered because he could not think anything better to say.

"I wish they would already make up and kiss," Claudia said before realising what she had just said, "though it would be kind of gross," she continued with her nose wrinkled up. Kadar burst into laughter at the mental image. She looked infinitely more amused as well.

* * *

Malik could not decide whether he wanted to kiss or strangle Altaïr as he found himself sitting on top the villa with the said man. At the moment he was leaning slightly towards the choice of strangling. He was angry at Altaïr blocking him from beating Ezio into a bloody pulp for the harm the Italian had cause for his brother.

The night was cold but it was not raining and the stars could be easily seen. In any other time it would have been sickeningly romantic to just curl up to each other for warmth but Malik was boiling with anger even after a few days had passed since the incident, making him unable to enjoy anything but rough sex where he could simply sate one part of his base desires.

"You are a horrible human being," Altaïr said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Well it turns out, apparently I am not a human being," he retorted irritated. Altaïr chuckled. He had not grown accustomed to the idea of being something other than a human but he trusted Leonardo to know better. The man was a genius, artist, inventor, and a witch so the chances were he knew what he was talking about. He didn't have to like it though.

"You should solve your argument with Ezio," Altaïr said. Malik frowned at the thought. He had thought about it before, but had not reached any conclusion which did not involve him embarrassing himself and then Ezio had gone and hurt his brother, making any kind of solution impossible.

"He hurt Kadar. He knew Kadar was off-limits but he went and broke his arm anyway," Malik growled. The flames of anger ignited in him once again with renewed vigour.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'Why'?" Malik deflected the question back angrier than before.

"Why is Kadar off-limits?" Altaïr inquired calmly and even the tone the man used was starting to annoy Malik.

"He is off-limits because he is my brother, because Ezio cannot pull his punches as is evident, because I do not want him hurt, and because he is not involved in this quarrel," Malik answered with his voice rising in volume along with the speed he spoke.

"Those are shit arguments," Altaïr countered. Malik looked at the man in disbelief. How could Altaïr not understand?

"What?!" were the words that left his mouth before his mind could catch up.

"You should allow Kadar to make his own choices or he won't ever know the extent of his abilities," Altaïr replied still calmly.

"But Ka –"

"No. He's an adult and needs to learn fighting Ezio results in broken arms. You can't keep on beating up people who look at your brother funnily forever and he doesn't want you to do so. You should respect him for it," Altaïr lectured him.

"Besides, you are just using him as an excuse to hate Ezio. You need to resolve this thing you have going on because it's clearly hurting you," Altaïr continued with a softer tone.

Malik did not want to think about any of this as it was starting to make his head hurt. Altaïr did have a point he admitted to himself but it was so hard to let go after spending his whole life attempting to shelter Kadar from anything harmful, and he was not used to solving quarrels with anything but his fists. Logical argumentation did not apply when emotions were involved in the equation making him unable to solve the puzzle.

He could admit of being tired of arguing with Ezio but the Italian really did not make it easy to forgive because every time they met a new fight would break out. Then there was the deliberate way Ezio had taunted him with beating Kadar and no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was Kadar's decision to deal with the situation, he could not bring himself to forgive the intentions behind Ezio's doings.

The thoughts repeated in endless loops inside his head making him feel almost physically disoriented. He tilted his head upwards and started counting the stars as an attempt to clear his head. Since he could not find a solution to his problems he decided to ignore them. He didn't know how long he had been counting when Altaïr nudged him in the side.

"Stop counting the stars," Altaïr commanded. Malik was startled out of his counting and looked at the man surprised. Altaïr was smirking smugly.

"How do you know I was counting them?" Malik asked disbelieving.

"I just know," was the annoyingly pointed reply. Malik frowned but did not say anything.

"Stop counting the stars and solve your problem with Ezio," Altaïr continued. Malik cringed.

"I do not know how," Malik admitted in defeat. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Try apologising," Altaïr said while shrugging. Clearly Altaïr was an authority in relationships, seeing how they had become friends by arguing, then fist fighting, then fucking each other. Malik rolled his eyes.

"Why?" Malik demanded an explanation because as far as he knew Ezio was the one who should be apologising seeing how the Italian was the reason for all this.

"Because somebody should," Altaïr answered casually.

"I was not the one who started all this," he argued and crossed his arms pulling his cloak closer to himself for warmth.

"Maybe, but you were the one to break someone's nose over it," Altaïr said amused. The jerk found the situation funny. Malik could feel his heat warming up from the anger he was feeling.

"He broke my brother's arm over it!" he snapped. Altaïr gave him a sideways glance at that.

"Solve your problem with Ezio. No matter how amusing I think it is to see you boiling furious every second of the day, the sex is infinitely better when I have your undivided attention," Altaïr said without any hint of embarrassment in his voice. The arrogant bastard had some nerve thinking everything revolved around his dick.

Malik might have erupted like a volcano if not for Altaïr's lips that were suddenly doing wicked things to him making him unable to resist the temptation. For a while he was annoyed that he was proving Altaïr right about his dick but thinking was much harder when being on the receiving end of a blow-job.

* * *

Ezio was convinced his sister was the devil-incarnate. There was no other explanation as he rubbed the bump in his head courtesy of Claudia throwing a shoe at him among various other objects. She had screamed at him how he was ruining everything. Everything being her odd friendship with Kadar which was apparently now under a threat because his feud with Malik.

Of how these things were connected Ezio was not sure but it had resulted in Claudia screaming at him as soon as he had woken up and wandered to get something to eat. She had been waiting for him just for the chance to shriek like a madman at him. He had no idea what he should do to her so he had tried to smooth the whole thing over. It had been unsuccessful.

He knew how to handle women very well, which was evident from all the female admirers he had all over Italy but clearly Claudia was not a woman. He could only look on flabbergasted as she berated him for being 'a shit head' and his favourite 'useless peacock without a brain'. What a lovely and charming woman his sister was; no wonder nobody wanted to marry the imp.

Then he had been thrown out of the brothel. The madame had told him to fix his shit and come back only once the dust had settled. He had been denied peace at his home, the pleasure of women outside of his home, and there was not even anyone to beat up.

It was then he decided drinking would solve all of his problems. He snatched two bottles of wine from the wine cellar and with a sip, which might have emptied one of the bottles halfway through, he set out on his task with a determination.

He wandered through the halls of the villa in search of his target. It was raining outside once again, so it was likely he would find his prey inside. He checked the normal lodgings of his target but found them empty. Then he made his way to the guest rooms as it was likely he would find who he was looking for there arguing with a certain arrogant foreigner.

He knocked on the door careful to avoid hitting the bottle against the wood. The liquid sloshed in the bottle from the motion. Then he pushed the door open before being invited in as he had little patience for standing still looking like a fool outside of a closed door.

Sure enough his target was there looking slightly ruffled and visibly surprised to see him and Altaïr was with him with his usual stony expression set firmly in place along with the hood. Ezio slammed down the bottles he was holding on top of the table in the middle of the room.

"Malik. Now we sit and drink," he commanded. His plan was foolproof. Malik eyed both the bottle and him suspiciously.

"I don't drink. I'm a muslim," Altaïr butted in. Well his plan was almost fool proof, except for this tiny little detail. Malik seemed to be considering whether to snap or accept his proposal with his face set somewhere in between.

"Fine," Malik sighed and dragged one of the chairs away from the table. Ezio triumphed silently before taking a chair for himself and Altaïr followed the suit even if he was not going to participate.

"Did you bring glasses?" Malik asked with an evil glint in his eyes.

"No," he answered with embarrassment and alcohol tinting his cheeks red. He had not thought about it at all when the plan had formed in his head.

"I guess it is fine like this," Malik responded while shrugging his shoulders. Ezio smiled as Malik reached for the bottle and opened it.

They drank in turns from the bottles, the tension leaving them as the liquid disappeared from the bottles, and it didn't take long for Malik to get drunk. The man had never been good at holding his alcohol as he did not indulge much. Soon they were both laughing at the most inane things and telling the most stupid jokes to each other.

"You know what, Ezio?" Malik slurred.

"What?" he managed back.

"I am sorry," Malik drawled with difficulty. Ezio wobbled as quickly as he could in his unsteady legs to hug Malik.

"No, I am sorry," he said with his voice breaking in the end. They found both themselves crying against each others shoulders endlessly telling each other how sorry they were. Somewhere in the room he was sure Altaïr must have been watching on amused but he just did not care.

* * *

The next evening he did care though when he woke up with a terrible hangover and with his mouth feeling like he had eaten a bucket of sand. The thrumming headache he was feeling was something to behold. He realised he was lying on the stone floor of the guest room where Altaïr was staying and he was not entirely sure how he had ended up sleeping there.

He took a quick look at his surroundings and he had to take a double take because he had entered the room with two bottles but there were several more lying all around the floor. Somewhere on his right Malik was stirring looking just as sick as he did. Altaïr was nowhere to be seen.

Then Malik scrambled on his feet as if on fire and made a beeline towards the chamber pot where he emptied his stomach. Ezio laughed at the sight until his head started hurting too much and he just wanted to curl up and die.

Who said alcohol was not a solution to things?


	8. From heavenly bliss into agony in Hell

The lips on Malik's neck had only one purpose which could not be mistaken for anything else but pure wanton lust. He attempted to feign interest in the map that was laid out in front of him but it was growing more difficult as his body betrayed him by responding to the wandering hands demanding access under his robes.

"Altaïr," he warned half-heartedly as the man in question bit his ear lobe just a little bit too hard. He would cave in a bit but this was an age old dance so easy to fall into, the past and present seamlessly connected. Altaïr's deft hands unbuckled his weapons belt, letting it fall on the ground heavy with all the equipment hanging from it.

Malik gave a glare over his shoulder which was responded to with a sloppy kiss on his mouth and clever hands diving under his robes. Altaïr's hands were cool against his abs and pectorals making Malik shiver from the sensation.

"Your hands are horribly cold," Malik gasped while grasping the quill in his hand almost to a breaking point.

"Doesn't seem to bother you," Altaïr answered confidently.

CENSORED

* * *

"You are limping, my friend," Ezio noted as he walked with Malik towards the great hall in the villa. His friend gave him a murderous glare but did not say anything.

"You had your ass kicked by Altaïr again, yes?" he asked amused. For some reason Malik refused to give up on attempting to defeat the Syrian hunter in combat. So far, as far as Ezio knew, the only time Malik had won one of their bouts was when they had fought with swords. Why his friend insisted on challenging Altaïr again and again was beyond his understanding but the results were often funny.

"Something like that," Malik answered while shrugging his shoulders. Ezio couldn't help but laugh at the response because it was so clear his friend was annoyed despite his best attempts at concealing it. He could see a smile trying to push out his friend's features. This was how things were supposed to be he thought.

Ezio had come to regret the fight he had kept ongoing with his friend for months. In the end he had found himself instigating arguments and fights with Malik just for the sake of keeping the animosity going as he justified his actions to himself as revenge for Malik undermining his abilities. But the whole situation had left a sour taste, as he realised he really did not want to fight his friend but then Malik had kept the row going escalating everything into complete madness.

He was more than happy to have his friendship back and he liked to think it was stronger than it had been before the whole feud. He could once again walk alongside his friend knowing the other would have his back if the situation called for it. In fact he felt like the situation they were heading called support for each other as his father had called them to meet some visitors from Vatican.

"Is Altaïr around?" he asked since Malik seemed to be well acquainted with the man, even if, when asked Malik would deny being friends with Altaïr claiming to hate him.

"No. He left off to do who knows what," Malik answered irritation colouring his voice slightly. Ezio chuckled. The Syrian had a tendency to disappear and then appear periodically. Apparently Altaïr was looking for something in Italy and had sort of taken Monteriggioni as his home base. Ezio suspected the hunter was just too restless to stay put for extended periods of time, kind of like a cat.

Ezio threw his arm around Malik's shoulders in a friendly gesture. His friend sighed. Ezio smirked. They stopped in front of big doors leading to the hall where his father wanted to parade them around like prize horses for the visitors from Vatican.

"Do not scowl as if you want to murder the guests, my friend," Ezio quipped. Malik replied by shrugging his arm off and giving him just the kind of murderous scowl he was talking about.

"And you should wipe off that ridiculous smirk off your face," Malik retorted. Ezio patted his friend on the back before pushing the doors open.

Three men dressed in priest attire, his father, and Federico were engaged in conversation as they entered the room. All the heads in the room turned towards him and Malik. They stayed standing at the far wall since they were not invited in the conversation and it wasn't like Ezio even wanted to join in.

The three men in priest attire were only priests in name Ezio knew. They were Vatican sanctioned vampire hunters who used any means to get to their targets and did not care about collateral damage nor were they interested in any other monsters. Despite of his father's friendly manner with the men, they co-existed in an uneasy peace with each other where the Vatican being the bigger force merely tolerated the Auditores.

Any visits from Vatican meant bad news even if in theory they should be working towards the same goal. Ezio dared a glance at his side, where Malik looked on with only a slight frown giving away the man's discomfort. He put on his neutral expression as well.

"Here gentlemen," his father said motioning towards him and Malik, and then continued, "Our hunters Ezio and Malik." They both bowed politely as they were addressed. The priests scrutinised them as if they were vegetables for sale in a market. Ezio could only barely contain himself and he suspected his friend was not feeling any different.

"They look very young," said a bald giant of a man who looked like he belonged in a suit of armour instead of the priest robes he was wearing. The man also talked with a French accent Ezio noted.

"Yes, they are very accomplished for their age," his father said, making Ezio swell with pride as his skills were acknowledged. He noted how his brother looked visibly uncomfortable before managing to turn his expression back into a practised business smile.

The talk turned back to other things, leaving them effectively as background decoration waiting to be dismissed. Ezio did not want to linger listening to boring talks of diplomacy. He noticed how the bald priest kept glancing over to them from time to time while the other two kept their focus on the conversation. He did not like the face of the bald priest, not in the slightest.

The talks inevitably turned into vampires. It was probably the reason the Vatican had sent them over anyway. Ezio was reminded of their brief almost encounter with one in Venice which his father did bring up.

"Yes. Similar reports have been popping up all around Italy as of late," the bald priest said and then continued, "We have a very good reason to suspect a vampire or possibly even more to have arrived from outside of our influence." The priest gave a pointed glance at the two of them. What was that supposed to mean?

"Why have we not heard of these occurrences?" his father asked.

"The people trust the church in the matter of vampires, as they should and go directly to their local priests," the priest kept his tone perfectly neutral but Ezio could swear he still could detect a bitter undertone in the words.

Fortunately they were soon dismissed because he would not have been able to take it any longer. As soon as he had exited the room he let his shoulders slump and he sighed in relief. Malik looked as if he had swallowed a bucketful of lemons, making it safe to assume his friend had not enjoyed the situation either.

"If I were made to stay any longer I would have strangled myself," Malik growled quietly. Ezio chuckled, not because he was particularly amused at the situation but rather for his friend voicing the thoughts he had been harbouring himself.

"I have to agree with you, my friend. But let us move away from here, yes?," Ezio agreed while patting Malik on the back. Malik nodded in response and they made their way away from the doors leading to the room containing the visitors. He didn't feel like discussing the meeting for the fear of being heard despite the thickness of the walls.

They made through the villa all the way outside in an unspoken silent agreement. The night air was cold close to the freezing point. It might start snowing any day now and turn the streets and roads into a muddy slush. The autumn had been extraordinarily wet and the winter was not looking to be much better. His skin pricked from the sudden temperature change between the inside and outside.

They stood in a companionable, silence leaning against the cold stonewall of the villa. Malik had his arms crossed probably for warmth and expression set in a firm scowl. His friend had never been good at dealing with cold. Ezio smiled, amused.

"I do not understand what they want from us. The Vatican is nothing but trouble. They have little regard to anything but their own sinister goals," Malik broke the silence clearly agitated. Ezio nodded in agreement and added,

"I must agree with you, my friend. They have left us alone for years and now they appear on our doorstep and for what reason? To chase after some vampire that might be somewhere in Italy?"

"Yes and as little as I care for the peasants inhabiting the lands, I would rather not see any people ripped out of their homes for torture. It hurts our reputation too as the common folk make no distinction between a Vatican vampire hunter and an Auditore monster hunter," Malik responded with distaste clear in his voice.

His friend was right too; the Vatican vampire hunters would jump at any even slightly suspicious individual if they felt like their hunt demanded so, often resulting in innocent people being victimised. Their actions were Vatican sanctioned preventing from anyone interfering with their actions. The Auditores didn't have such sanctions and they had to work within the confines of local laws but laws meant very little if the people turned against their kind with pitchforks and torches. They couldn't afford pressing charges lightly.

"We are all the same to the people. They only see a man carrying a silver sword and they care very little for the markings on our robes or the purpose of carrying them," Ezio affirmed. Next to him Malik sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Ezio threw his arm over his friend's shoulder to comfort himself as much as his friend.

"I am given enough dirty looks as it is without these glorified thugs making things even worse," Malik snapped and Ezio could sympathise. He gave his friend a reaffirming squeeze on the shoulder.

"How about we get ourselves some warm spiced wine?" Ezio offered even though he was quite sure Malik would refuse as the man drank very rarely. His arm was shrugged off.

"Why not? Maybe it will wash away the foul taste from my mouth," Malik answered nonchalantly. Ezio looked on surprised for a while as his friend made his way back towards the entrance to the villa but he recovered quickly with a smirk forming on his lips. He took a quick glance over his shoulder before following Malik and saw an eagle sitting on top of the ramparts lit by torch light. _How unusual,_ he thought before shrugging and making his way back inside.

* * *

He had been content to remain under the warm blankets lost in his own thoughts. He knew as soon as he would throw the heavy quilts away he would be welcomed by cool air, making him even more unwilling to leave the comforts of his bed. Malik did not like the cold, not even one bit. He had to stack layers upon layers on himself to stay relatively warm in the winter. It was not uncommon for him to find himself on the verge of hypothermia after fighting some monster and finding himself soaked to the core with blood and muddy water.

If it had been up to him he would have not left his bed for the entire day. But it was not up to him, as he realised when he was jolted out of his musings by someone attempting to forcefully open his door. The door rattled uselessly against the doorframe. He had for once had the foresight to lock his door; a habit that had become more frequent after starting his trysts with Altaïr.

He was about to ignore the person behind his door and just tune it out, but then the banging started accompanied by muffled shouting. First he could not make out the words as his brain was still slow to make out the situation. He realised it was Claudia Auditore desperately trying to grab his attention.

"Open the door Malik!" Claudia shouted before banging the door more. Malik did not know the girl all that well even if she was his friend's sister and his brother's best friend. They were casual acquaintances conversing occasionally over dinner but never did they seek out each other. Malik realised there was something wrong for her to come over like this.

"It's Kadar! He needs help!" Claudia screamed desperately, finally spurring Malik into action.

"What happened?!" Malik shouted while scrambling to put his clothes on. When he had at least a modest amount of clothing on him he unlocked the door and let Claudia in. The girl was visibly shaken, covered in dirt, and was wearing his riding clothes which were torn here and there. This was bad.

"We were out riding when a monster attacked us. Kadar stayed behind to fight so I could get away," Claudia cried clearly distraught. Malik kept pulling on his clothes.

"What were you doing out this late?!" Malik accused as his temperament was getting the better of him making him angry.

"We weren't! My horse slipped on the snow on my way here and I fell off. I had to make my way here on foot!" Claudia defended herself. Malik was feeling panic invading his thoughts and he had to fight himself to keep in control.

"Where was this? What did the monster look like?" he demanded as he needed to know to be of help.

"It was south of here behind the fields just outside of the forest. We go there often. It looked like a huge man made out of rock or clay. I'm not really sure because I got so scared," Claudia broke into tears. Malik looked on unsure what to do as the girl buried her face into her hands and wailed loudly.

"I need to go," Malik said firmly and pulled on his cloak, strapped on his blade, and made it out of the door. He could hear Claudia shouting after him.

"Please bring Kadar back!"

He waved the girl off and transformed his quick steps into a full-blown run. He did not have time to waste if he wanted to see his brother alive.

It was near dark outside and sure enough there was snow on the ground which had not been there the previous day. He run through the town while struggling to stay upright as the wet snow had turned everything slippery.

When he reached the stables he stole the first horse he found saddled, not caring who it belonged to. His only purpose was to find his brother and nothing could stop him from reaching his goal. He ushered the horse into full gallop as soon as he got on. The horse protested his rough treatment but he did not care and put even more pressure on the animal which then gave up and complied.

He wished he could take the shortest route through the fields but the fields had been ploughed in the autumn making it impossible to ride through them. He would have to go around following the fence surrounding the field hoping to find some tracks to help his search. His horse was having hard time maintaining balance as the animal constantly slipped on the snow having little traction between its metal shoes and the snow.

As he rushed towards his destination, he almost missed them but in the snow he found footprints following a set of tracks belonging to a galloping horse. They were most likely Claudia's as deducted from the girl's description of falling off of her horse. Hope flared somewhere in Malik's gut, but also a need to reach his brother even faster.

He kicked his horse in frustration as he felt the horse attempting to slow down from the fear of falling. The horse swished its tail in protest. Malik kicked the animal once again but with even more force. This time the horse picked up the pace once again.

He was making good progress and the horse managed to not fall. It was practically dark now with the snow making everything seem much lighter than it actually was.

Then he saw it. The blood had turned the snow red everywhere and a dark huddle was in the middle of it all with a sword discarded a few metres away. Somehow he knew it was his brother even if he could not even see his face. He could see no monster though.

It was all he had time to register when his horse tumbled with its front leg slipping on the snow sending him flying over the horse's neck. He landed face down on the snow. Somewhere behind him the horse struggled to recover its footing, but he did not care as he himself scrambled to get on his feet and at the same time trying to reach his brother.

Somehow in his desperation he constantly kept slipped on the wet cold snow, making him reach for the ground almost as much with his hands as he did with his feet. There were tears swelling on his face as the worst case scenario which he refused to give a name even in his thoughts crossed his mind. This entire time his brother had not moved even one bit. The scent of blood floated in the air almost overwhelming him with its power.

He made the last few meters on all fours. His hands were numb from the coldness and his knees were wet, as he reached his brother. Kadar was lying face down in the snow with his limbs at an unnatural angle. He felt himself going through an array of emotions as the tears now streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably. His brother lay still unmoving.

"I came to bring you back home you idiot," he said with a wavering voice full of self-denial as he reached to turn his brother around. Kadar was cold to the touch and limp in his arms like a gigantic ragdoll.

His brother stared at him with blue glassy eyes. Something inside Malik broke in that very moment. He clutched his brother's body against himself while loud wails escaped him. He could not believe this was all happening to him. He cradled his brother as if he could just bring Kadar back with a little bit of comfort.

"I have always warned you of going out to ride near the woods. Why do you never listen? Why Kadar? Why do you need to insist on finding everything out the hard way?" he sobbed while shaking his brother's unresponsive body. Surely Kadar was just sleeping and he needed to be woken up with a bit of roughing up.

Then Malik stopped. He stopped absolutely everything except for breathing. He sat there with his brother's body still in his arms. He did not move. He did not think. He was completely blank as he gave up trying to do anything for himself or for his brother. He succumbed to his own subconscious staring into nothingness. The snow was melting under his folded legs soaking his breeches above his boots and he had no feeling in his fingers.

Something moved behind him in the forest. Malik did not move from his place even though his ears registered the sound of movement. The thing moved closer to him with heavy footfalls. For a little while Malik entertained the idea of surrendering himself without a fight to the monster but as the creature made its way through the forest and into the clearing, Malik had a freshly-found rage wash through his entire body.

He sprang on his feet to face the monster that had taken his brother's life as he was sure this was the same one from the smell emanating from it. It smelled of his brother's blood. He drew his sword readying himself for a fight. He would avenge his brother if it was the last thing he would do. His face contorted into an ugly sneer.

But the creature was not a monster per se but a golem. Malik was now confused as none of this made any sense. Golems had masters controlling them and they were created by humans. He could not see the puppeteer anywhere. He either had to find the puppeteer and kill them or remove the spell from the golem.

He shook all of his thoughts from his head since this was still the thing that had killed his precious brother. He attacked the golem without second thought hatred clouding his mind. He kept slipping on the snow as he clumsily dodged the golems wild swings.

He wanted desperately to hack the thing to pieces and then hack its master to pieces afterwards. He slipped again, becoming unable to dodge the golem's attack. He braced himself for the impact but instead of being sent flying he felt himself being snagged into air from his left arm. He struggled to free himself but the golem's grip was iron.

Then the golem squeezed. A wave of agony washed through him as he felt his arm explode into pure pain around both sides of his elbow. The golem then dropped him to the ground, except he realised the creature was still holding his arm. Malik kept gripping his sword as if it was a lifeline when he came to the realisation he had no left arm.

The golem then kicked him sending him flying uncontrollably for several metres. He attempted to roll on instinct to cushion the landing but his balance was off making him land awkwardly on his left side. He doubled over from the pain and nausea hit him like a brick wall, making him vomit.

He made it to a sitting position somehow. He looked at the now profusely bleeding remains of his left arm as if it was the most curious thing in the world. He felt light-headed, making him realise he was probably entering a state of shock but he was helpless to do anything but watch on as the golem started marching towards him.

His vision was blurring from the edges and he could smell his own blood entering the cacophony of odours in the air. He tried to move his legs but they refused to work. His right hand was still uselessly holding onto the sword. The gap between himself and the golem was closing each passing second.

He was seeing his entire life pass before his eyes. He regretted so many things. He had come to love so many things. There were so many things he still wanted to do. He realised this was it. He would die because of attacking an unknown golem in a fit of blind rage to avenge his brother, yet ending up dead alongside of him.

In the end his thoughts settled on only one thing. 'I am leaving Altaïr alone again,' and he could feel tears falling down his cheeks once again as he saw the golem preparing to slam him into bloody pulp.

But just as he was about to give up all hope and a golden eagle swooped down from the sky transforming in mid-air to a man wearing white robes, and landed on top of the golem. Both the man and the golem crashed down to the ground with a heavy slam that sent shockwaves through the snow.

It was Altaïr he knew. Altaïr had come to rescue him. Then his world went black.


	9. Altair's perspective

A/N: Updating this story in here in case there is someone who wants to read it. This story is now completed and can be found in AO3 where I use the name Sorsa.

* * *

He had been following a false trail, making him feel like a complete fool. A terrible feeling pooled in his gut when he realised this. He had seen the vampire hunters from the Vatican arriving in Monteriggioni and had made himself scarce before he would be found out and before Malik's safety would be compromised.

When he understood he had been purposefully led away from Monteriggioni, he had immediately turned around. He had seen Ezio departing hastily from the villa and decided to fly over to investigate the general direction the Italian was headed.

He arrived in the middle of a scene of a massacre. Blood was everywhere, colouring the snow in red. Kadar's body lay forgotten in a heap, but that was not the important part. The important part was Malik, whose shallow breaths he could hear, who was missing an arm, and whose life was endangered by a clay golem still gripping Malik's detached arm while stomping towards him to finish the job.

Altaïr was not about to let that happen. Not this time. He was not going to sit idly by and watch the most important person in his entire life be killed a second time. He dived down with as much speed as he could build, aiming for the golem. The cold air pushed his wings tightly to his body and his vision blurred around the edges.

At the very last moment he transformed and braced himself for the impact. He hit the golem hard, the momentum sending them both to the snowy ground. The golem's massive form sent shockwaves throughout the ground and he felt them shaking him to the bones.

He chanced a quick glance at Malik. The man was no longer sitting but lying on his side. A surge of panic coursed through him. He turned his focus back to the golem. He needed to destroy the spell inside the creature.

He punched the golem in the face repeatedly, not allowing it to get up. He danced between its flailing arms that were attempting to grab him but the golem was slow and he was fast.

Then he managed to crack the golem's face with a sharp punch to its mouth. The face crumbled to reveal a paper slip inside which he grabbed just before the golem clapped its massive hands where his head had been.

He ripped the spell into pieces and the golem stopped moving instantly. He tossed the pieces to the snow and ran to Malik's side. He had no time to waste. He felt his chest being constricted by some unknown emotion.

He knelt down next to Malik. The man was eerily pale, he noted, and the snow was stained crimson red from the blood flowing from the remains of his arm. Malik was still breathing though it was laboured. He had to act quickly, if he wanted to keep him alive.

Altaïr turned Malik carefully onto his back. Malik's head lolled to the side as the entirety of his body was completely limp under Altaïr's touch. As he set out to arrange the tangling limbs he heard a fast-approaching horse come to halt near him. Somebody dismounted the horse.

"What happened here?" Ezio gasped looking around with disbelief at the scene. Then the Italian laid his eyes on Altaïr hovering over Malik's unconscious form and Altaïr could see Ezio's eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"What are you doing?" Ezio asked with an accusatory tone while his right hand was reaching for his sword. Altaïr tensed.

"Stay back!" Altaïr growled. A primal need to defend Malik nearly consumed him. He would allow no one to touch the man. Ezio did then stay back but watched on distrustfully. Altaïr resumed his doings.

He took out a dagger. Malik's breathing had turned ragged. Altaïr removed the arm brace in his left arm and dropped it to the bloodied, slushy ground.

"What are you doing with the dagger?" Ezio questioned alarmed. Altaïr glared at the man murderously. He needed to Italian to shut up but as he had no time for that he just cut his own wrist open with the dagger. The blood pooled quickly to the surface of his skin and made little streams on their way.

He directed his arm above Malik's head and with his right hand he made sure the man had his mouth open. The blood started trickling down his wrist dropping down into the unresisting mouth. He let his blood flow until the wound closed itself, stopping the bleeding. Now he could only hope Malik would finally wake up completely.

"You! What are you?!" Ezio hissed now right next to him. Altaïr realised there was a sword pointed at his head. He sighed. He could probably stop pretending at this point as Ezio probably had a very good idea what was actually going on. Malik started shivering.

"Put that thing away. It's of no use against me," Altaïr said as calmly as he could. Ezio glanced between him and Malik who had started convulsing, but the Italian lowered his sword hesitantly.

"Help me hold him down until the seizures pass," he commanded and they both sprang into action. Altaïr held Malik's upper body down and Ezio took the legs. In a way Altaïr was glad Malik was unconscious for this part since he had been told it hurt like nothing else, but then again he wished the man had his left arm intact because he knew that as soon as Malik would wake up he would be livid at Altaïr.

The amount of force Malik's body had surprised Altaïr and apparently did so to Ezio as well since the Italian was practically fighting with Malik's lower body. It was just another reminded to Altaïr how this Malik was different from the man he had come to know centuries ago. This Malik was a fighter with a fighter's physique whereas the Malik he had known previously was a lean bodied scholar opposed to any kind of violence. The contrast was stark.

Finally the convulsions slowed, then completely. The bleeding had stopped and Malik was taking steady yet shallow breaths. Altaïr breathed in relief as he gathered the limp body in his arms. He would have to get out of here before he was found out by the witch that must have been controlling the golem. He eyed Ezio, trying to figure out if he could trust the hunter.

"What did you do to him, vampire?" Ezio asked. The Italian looked conflicted as if he didn't know if he wanted to kill him on sight or thank him for saving Malik.

"I saved him," Altaïr answered truthfully. Ezio looked furious.

"By turning him into one of you?!" Ezio growled. Altaïr sighed in defeat. The Italian obviously did not have any idea of the true nature of Malik's being which had let him to be convinced the Vatican hunters would not either but he had been wrong. Now he wished he had been more careful but he had wanted to respect Malik's wishes and let the man figure things out on his own. It was just one more mistake in the list of countless mistakes he had made ending up hurting his long-time partner.

"No. Not really. He would have turned into one in time even without my interference. I just sped up the process," he explained while arranging Malik into a better position so he could carry him with more ease. The man was not going to walk out of here on his own after all.

"That is bullshit! People do not just turn into vampires. Somebody needs to turn them!" Ezio argued, clearly in denial. Altaïr was tired of this exchange because he had a shelter to find to house himself and Malik until the latter would regain consciousness.

"Who turned the first human into a vampire, Ezio?" Altaïr challenged in the hopes the Italian could piece the puzzle together and decide if he wanted to help him further or attack him. Altaïr did not care either way. If Ezio attacked him, he would cut the man down without any remorse and if he decided to help him or at least leave him alone he would welcome the gesture. He looked as the Italian's eyes widened with the dawning knowledge.

"It cannot be. I refuse to accept I have been friends with a pure-blood vampire my entire life. I do not believe you!" Ezio snapped. Altaïr got on his feet with Malik making the task slightly harder than it normally would be.

"Then don't. I don't care," Altaïr retorted and started marching towards the horse Ezio had used to come there.

"What do you think you are doing?" Ezio asked while running between Altaïr and the horse.

"I am taking Malik somewhere safe. Stand down or I will kill you," Altaïr threatened and fixed a glare at the Italian who was much more wary than he had been before the knowledge of pure-blood vampires. For a while Altaïr revelled in the knowledge he was scaring the Italian but then he remembered Malik still out cold in his arms vulnerable to any attacks; and he snapped back.

Ezio moved out of his way, letting him reach the horse. Hauling himself and Malik on top of the horse required a little bit of acrobatics, but he managed. Once he was seated he took the reins in his other hands and held his precious cargo in front of himself with his other. Ezio still looked at him confused.

"If you want to help, find the golem puppeteer and interrogate him," Altaïr said thoughtfully before adding, "And then kill him," his voice cold with anger. Ezio looked taken aback.

"Golem?" Ezio asked as if he did not understand what Altaïr had just said. The man was a simpleton and he did not understand how Malik could tolerate a presence like this. Altaïr nodded towards the golem lying on the ground as his hands were occupied otherwise.

"There is a golem right there. The puppeteer is most likely hiding in the forest," he explained annoyed. In any other circumstance he would have taken care of the problem himself but he could not leave Malik because even the idea of leaving Malik in his current situation terrified him.

"What about Kadar?" Ezio inquired. Altaïr was about to lose his patience.

"What about him?" he retorted because he honestly did not really care. He held no attachment to the man even if he knew he was Malik's brother.

"We should at least take his body back to Monteriggioni," Ezio said.

"I don't care," he said and ushered his horse into a canter before the Italian could respond.

* * *

Ezio looked on, his mouth agape as Altaïr sped away with his horse. He tried to understand what had just happened, what was going on, and what the implications of all this were. A friend of his had been killed, his best friend had turned out to be vampire, they had harboured a vampire among themselves for months, and the killer of his friend was still on the loose. This was all a fucking mess.

He looked around himself. It would have been beautiful night with the snow making everything seem much lighter than it actually was but it was not. There was a corpse lying in the snow. There was Malik's arm next to a golem. Then he noted Malik's sword and picked it up because he didn't know what else to do.

The runes weren't working in the sword, he realised, as he attached the sword into his weapons belt with a makeshift solution. He wished he could bring Kadar's body back to Monteriggioni and at the same time he was glad he didn't have to since he did not have a horse. The horse Malik must have ridden was gone and apparently Altaïr had materialised out of thin air to get there, or whatever fucking way a vampire travels.

What does a man do when they found nothing was true and apparently everything was permitted? When the whole world decides to take a giant shit and make everything so complicated all of a sudden? He wished things were the way they had been only a few days ago, when Kadar was still caught up in this weird semi-romance with his sister, when he had been best friends and rivals with Malik, and when there had not been any vampires to complicate things.

He found himself conflicted. He had helped a vampire which was against everything he had been taught, but then again if Altaïr was to be trusted he had grown up with one as his best friend. Then the matter of Kadar who he reasoned must have been also a vampire since he was Malik's brother but the man was just so human he had hard time accepting it.

Then he remembered what Altaïr had told him ' _Find the golem puppeteer and interrogate him_ ,' which finally snapped him out of his circling thoughts. He pulled out his sword and started making it to the forest with new-found determination.

He looked for any tracks in the snow because there were bound to be some unless the puppeteer had flown there which was unlikely. Everything left tracks one way or another. He knew the puppeteer could not be very far away either because he would have to be able to control the golem so he targeted his search near the edge of the forest where the massacre had happened.

Then he found the tracks and followed them. They led behind a large stone into a thicket. Ezio stopped to listen. The forest was eerily quiet except for erratic breathing coming from the bush.

Without a second thought Ezio then roughly pulled out a man dressed in priest attire, clutching on to something that he must have used to control the golem. The man was visibly scared which was in a way very disappointing since this was the man who had killed Kadar and robbed Malik his arm. Ezio scowled and punched the man in the face.

"Who are you? Why are you here? Why did you attack my friends and my sister?" Ezio demanded while shaking the man for intimidation.

"I'm a De Sable's man," the man answered quivering. Ezio punched the man again. The man attempted to cover himself with his arms.

"That only barely tells me you are from the Vatican. Why are you here? Why did you attack us?!" Ezio tried again.

"The two Arabic men were vampires," the man replied timidly and then begged for his life. Ezio punched him and blood burst from the man's nose but it stopped the man's pleads.

"How do you know this?" Ezio continued his interrogation.

"I don't. De Sable has something he uses to tell these things. Please let me go. I'm a hunter like yourself. We are on the same side," the man pleaded frantically but Ezio had heard enough.

"In this you are mistaken. I am only on my own side," Ezio retorted and looked on as the knowledge dawned on the man's face but before any real struggle could occur he snapped the man's neck. He grimaced as he did it and felt disgusted at himself afterwards. But he could not let the man live because he had most definitely been aware how he had helped a vampire and even heeded to Altaïr's commands.

He would have think these things through and he would have confront his father too about Kadar and Malik. He didn't even know what he should say about Malik. At least he had a really long walk back to Monteriggioni giving him plenty of time to think these things trough.

* * *

The barn Altaïr broke into was not the safest place he had ever been but it suited his purposes as it had no windows, only one easily guarded entrance, and was filled with hay for both comfort and insulation. He had set Malik down on the hay and taken to sitting against a wall next to the door so he could guard it from possible intruders.

His body was starting to demand rest but he was not going to succumb to it. He needed to stay awake until Malik woke up at least. A fear of being found settled in his gut making him eye the door suspiciously and listen to any surrounding noises.

But nothing happened and he found himself reflecting as he observed Malik's unconscious body. In so many ways he was relieved he had been given a second chance with the man but the reality was quite different from what he had expected. He had known a sharp-minded and quick-witted scholar who only killed the terminally sick or criminals for centuries and he had never quite figured out how the man ambushed his prey since he had no skill in fighting.

The man he had first met in Venice was just as intelligent and ready to speak his mind, but also full of unexplainable anger and violence. It was all very confusing to listen to the same man who had lectured him countless times to use less violence to rave how he wanted to sink his sword to any passing by monster.

It wasn't even that he didn't like the fact that Malik could fight because he had attempted to coax the man countless times to pick up even the most basic fighting tactics. In fact he found it extremely arousing in some weird primal way that told him his mate should be as strong as possible but it was in such direct conflict with the things he had come to expect over the course of time.

He sighed and pulled his hood a little bit deeper down. Then he grinned as he realised that Malik actually reminded of himself from the time they met. The memory flooded in his mind.

This was a city the humans called Jerusalem. It was full of hapless idiots bumbling around asking to be killed and sucked dry. Why he had not expanded his territory into this place before he could not figure out because there weren't even any of his own kind.

Or so he had thought. He had killed yet again this night. It had been a young woman because they were the ones who tasted the best. He was about to discard the body when he heard a voice from somewhere.

"You are in my territory, and you are making a mess of it with your thoughtless actions," a male voice said with a bite to the words but he could not pinpoint where in the alley way the sound was coming from. He snarled.

"I'll do what I want," he growled. Because he knew he could eliminate anyone in his way and he had done so already countless times.

"I have been observing you for weeks now. I am not terribly impressed," the voice was reprimanding him now. The gal the speaker had. Didn't the man see how dangerous he was? How he could rip them apart with ease?

"Show yourself coward!" he demanded. He wanted nothing more than to rip the speaker apart. Nobody lectured him. He was centuries old and he didn't have to listen to anyone's insults to his person.

A big owl flew silently through the air and landed on the ground, where it transformed into an unassuming looking man wearing black scholar's robes. It was not the first time he had seen another pure blood vampire but it was the first time he had seen one with a bird form besides himself. Being an owl was just about the only impressive thing about the man and the fact when he used his second sight he glowed gold. He knew what red meant and blue while most of the things around him were unimpressive grey but what was gold supposed to mean?

"You rampage through my city like an imbecile, leaving obvious evidence everywhere. Your operations here will compromise my existence. I do not want to leave the city and I do not want to be killed. You must leave," the man said while walking closer with an intimidating posture. It didn't work on Altaïr though because it was obvious the man was not carrying any weapons and from the way he carried himself he didn't know anything about fighting either.

"I will not leave," he retorted because nobody told him what to do. They circled each other in mutual distrust sizing each other up. Then the man stopped looked up at Altaïr as he was slightly shorter, looking like he had made up his mind about Altaïr.

"I cannot make you leave but you must be more discreet in your killings or you are truly a novice of a vampire," the man said with an air of superiority. Before Altaïr could react the man transformed back into an owl and flew away.

He had thought it would be the last time he would see the man but a few weeks later he happened upon the man once again. The man was sitting one leg crossed over the other on top of a fence forcing Altaïr to look up at him.

"You are still wreaking havoc in my city," the man said judgementally.

"It's not your city," he growled in response. The man narrowed his eyes and glared at him. Altaïr glared back.

"It is my city. I was here first. You are invading my territory so you should behave according to my rules!" the man spat in anger.

"There are no rules in this world!" he retorted. They were superior to humans so why should they limit themselves with rules? He could easily kill anyone who tried to cross his path and he would do so without any remorse.

"Yes there are, you small-minded brain-dead novice!" the man hissed. Altaïr snapped. He would no longer tolerate the other vampire in his presence. But just as he was about to lunge the man transformed into an owl and flew away disappearing between the buildings, again.

The third time they met he was not surprised like he had been the first two times. Apparently the man was very good at hiding himself among the humans. This time the man was leaning against a wall and reading a book in an alley Altaïr had entered. The man still showed up in a golden colour in his second sight.

"Are you following me?" Altaïr asked annoyed. The man glanced at him before returning to his book. What a pretentious ass.

"You leave enough bodies behind for anyone to follow you. I am surprised no hunter has killed you yet," the man said thoughtfully.

"What is this? No words of how I'm an idiot?" he growled. The man snapped his book closed and turned his full attention to him.

"Those will surely follow later on. But as it would seem you are not leaving my city and I do not want to be killed by you or by a hunter, I have a proposition for you," the man said with a neutral tone even if he was frowning.

"And that would be what?" Altaïr asked with a slightly more civil voice.

"I will teach you how to be discreet and in exchange you will not kill me," the man replied. At least the man knew where he stood and that was firmly under him. He did not need to be taught anything though, he was centuries old and had managed just fine without anyone meddling in his business.

"Why would I do that?" he argued and slammed his hands on both sides of the man's head, effectively trapping him there. He expected to see fear on the man's face but he was met with defiance.

"Because if I teach you this you will be the perfect killer; deadly and silent. Imagine your prey never even knowing you were there. Think about the advantage this will give you over our own kind," the man said without even hint of hesitation. Altaïr didn't like the idea he was being told he was not already perfect but some force drove him to say 'yes' and let the man escape him.

He would later learn the man's name was Malik Al-Sayf. It was an ironic name for a man who did not even own a sword and who did not believe in violence.

Malik was an unmerciful teacher. He kept berating Altaïr over every turn on how he was as graceful as a war elephant and as subtle as a street crier. It was not one or two times where Altaïr lost it completely but Malik was a true master of evasion, moving away before he could actually hurt him.

The man would always return to nag at him and at some point he grew used to it. Malik was infuriatingly stubborn in his conviction of non-violence which in Altaïr's mind contradicted their nature as creatures sustained by human blood.

One of the first things Malik demanded of him was to give up killing healthy young humans and choose his victims among the social outcasts. Sucking blood from lepers, madmen, and criminals did not sit well with him. Their taste was inferior to others.

"It is not about their taste," Malik said and paused to see if he had Altaïr's attention before continuing, "It is about choosing a victim who will not be missed by other humans. This way we lower our chances of being discovered. Humans do not hold love for their outcasts and are more willing to turn blind eye if that crazy madman suddenly disappears from their neighbourhood than if a wealthy merchant disappears."

"Why does it matter so much to you if you are discovered? You can always relocate," Altaïr asked in annoyance.

"I do not want to relocate. This is my home, you ignoramus," Malik said and threw his arms in the air. Altaïr did not understand what Malik meant by 'home'. Home was a human concept. Vampires did not have a need for homes; what they had were territories that they moved within. But he had complied with Malik's demands because he wanted to learn how the man sneaked around without being seen or heard by anyone.

He would learn the skill and then get rid of Malik because nobody told him what to do, not even a person glowing in gold. But he would have to play nice for the time being or he didn't have any doubt Malik would stop teaching him.

Then there were times when he forgot he was supposed to hate Malik like when they were running over the rooftops of the town, climbing walls, and jumping over the narrow streets. Malik's feet made no sound even when in a full-speed run. It was like looking at an owl fly through the night air, which he supposed was exactly what was going on. He was slightly faster than Malik on flat surfaces but the way Malik scaled the walls was like work of art.

Malik corrected him endlessly on how to do it properly. 'Put your feet like this', 'Use your hands like that' and it went on and on until he got it right. The first time he beat Malik in a race over the roofs he felt accomplished in a way he had never done. He remembered the small smile Malik had when he caught up with him and somehow it transformed Malik's entire being completely into something else. Altaïr had to blink several times to make sure he was still looking at the same grumpy man he had come to know.

At some point he had apparently gathered enough trust from Malik to be invited into his own personal lodgings. It was a small house in the outskirts of the city filled with maps and books. Malik had told him he was a cartographer and sold his maps to humans for gold. He didn't understand why Malik would lower himself to do business with their food. There was no point to it. But Malik had looked at him amused.

"It is the reason why I have my nice clothes while you look like a beggar," Malik commented casually. Altaïr frowned. He looked at his clothes which he had stolen from someone's clothesline. They served him well enough even if they were torn here and there and the pants were slightly too short for him. He was a vampire. What need did a vampire have for nice clothes?

In the end he grew tired of skulking in the shadows. He wanted to fight something to the death. He needed to have that feeling when his prey struggled in his hands and the satisfaction that followed when he beat them into submission. Malik had noticed his agitation because, as he had learned the man had an ability to notice everything that ever happened.

"The world is full of monsters. Humans even pay money for killing them. You can sate your bloodlust and use the humans this way," Malik had told him.

The first monster he had killed was demon-possessed rat. He had beaten the thing into a bloody mush with a stick and taken the remains of the body for the human who had posted the reward for it. He had been given some money which he had pocketed away because he didn't really know what he would use it for.

The next time he had returned to see Malik the man had smiled at him, and for some reason Altaïr thought it was important to see Malik smiling. He went out to kill more monsters the very next night and then the next night too. He managed to accumulate quite a lot of money in a short time from killing the monsters but he still didn't know what he would actually use the money for.

"You realise you could buy yourself some equipment with that money? A silver sword would enable you to take on bigger things," Malik had suggested to him in a tone that was far too amused.

"I had not thought about that," Altaïr replied honestly because he had not. Malik had chuckled and said,

"You never do, novice." It should have infuriated him to be called novice and being accused of not thinking but for some reason it did not.

He did buy himself a silver sword which he had to be careful with to not touch the silver blade himself unless he wanted burns from it. He then killed a basilisk and several other monsters. He used his earnings for more gear until one day he found himself at a tailor being fitted with custom-made robes made with his own needs in mind. It was then he understood why Malik drew his maps.

Then the inevitable day came when he was just as good at making his way through the town without being noticed as Malik was. It was the day he had sworn he would kill Malik as he had outlived his usefulness. But he did not find it in himself to actually perform the task which made him furious at himself.

He looked at Malik who stood beside him on top of a house. What had changed from the time he had entered the city and crossed paths with the man? Malik was wearing his permanent frown like he always did, looking down at the city like a predatory bird observing the humans walking the streets.

"I intended to kill you," Altaïr said truthfully. Malik turned his gaze at him.

"I know," Malik replied without hesitation. Altaïr was surprised now.

"I can't do it any more," he admitted. Malik closed the distance between them in leaned against him until their faces were only few centimetres apart. Malik was smiling with an evil glint in his eyes.

"I know," Malik answered with a low voice and then kissed him. Altaïr answered the kiss ferociously and wrapped his arms around Malik's form possessively. They bit each other in the shoulder tasting what the other was like. Malik tasted like nothing he had ever bitten into intoxicating him in a matter of seconds. Not even the sweetest of maidens could compare to the sensation Malik's blood offered him.

They ended up tumbling over the roof with Altaïr on top of Malik. They fucked together like two animals in heat both desperate for release. When he came, he also realised what the colour gold meant. He had been such a fool all this time not to realise it.

Years later Malik would admit he had manipulated Altaïr from the beginning to walk down the path he had taken. Malik also had admitted he had not expected their relationship to turn as it did. He had been more concerned about staying alive than anything else. Altaïr was not even mad nor even surprised. Malik was a cunning and calculating person who achieved his goals by manipulating everyone around him.

Altaïr smiled at the memory when he sat in the barn amongst the hay. He was glad he was no longer that individual who had entered Jerusalem all those years ago. He realised he had been without aimless just trying to find the next thing he could sink his teeth into. Malik had straightened him out.

Malik was still unconscious after a day in hiding but he knew it would take time so he was not too worried. Malik had lost a lot of blood and his body was not yet that of a full-fledged vampire but somewhere in between.

He was thinking of how Malik would react to discovering he was a vampire because as far as Altaïr knew the man was still ignorant to his true nature. He had to be or otherwise he would not have let the vampire hunters ambush him like they had done.

Then there was the matter of Ezio. He would have to find a way to deal with all of this. He didn't want his second chance to be ruined by thoughtless actions.

Malik stirred in the hay. Altaïr made his way over so he could comfort the man or hold him still in case of more tremors. Malik mumbled softly making Altaïr realise the man was actually waking up. The moment of truth had arrived which Altaïr braced himself against, ready to explain the situation to Malik.

What woke up was not Malik the 25-year old monster hunter filled with unexplainable anger but Malik the centuries old pure blood vampire. Altaïr knew it from the expression in his and he knew Malik knew everything now even without asking him.

Malik did not even glance at his missing arm but directed his gaze at Altaïr. Altaïr was at a loss of words so he did not say anything. But the most surprising thing was the first thing Malik said to him. It was filled with a kind of murderous intent he had never witnessed before and especially not from the man who spoke the words.

"Where is my sword?" Malik asked with a low growl.


	10. Reconciliation

Chapter 9: Reconciliation

Altaïr looked at Malik with an expression of disbelief which angered him more than it probably should. The rational part of his mind knew Altaïr could not possibly know what was going through his mind but the emotional part was so hurt at the moment, making him react poorly to everything. He could now remember everything as far back as the time he lived in Greece until the point he was at now.

He understood that certain emotions he had been feeling throughout his second life being his unconscious telling him what to do. He had never been a fighter, he did not believe in violence but he was a fighter now; he had been very much violent for the past 20 or so years. He felt no inclination to reverting back into the scholar he had been. Not after being killed and not being able to fight back.

But he didn't have his arm and his brother was dead. He had been reduced into a non-combatant against his will and he would never be able to fly. He wished he had been less reckless in his actions but there was no taking back it now and his arm was not going to magically grow back because it was cut off before his transformation was complete.

Then there was the issue of his brother's death which made him furious at himself because he should have cared about Kadar more than he did about his arm. But he did not. He wanted to care and there was a part of him that was saddened by it but the grief for his missing limb eclipsed that.

There were so many strands of thought in his mind he didn't know which one he should attach himself to. A part of him was so emotionally hurt he almost felt physical pain, a part of him wanted vengeance, a part of him wanted to just cling to Altaïr, and a part of him wanted to plot for the next move.

In the end he decided to abandon as many of his emotions as he possibly could. He needed to figure out his assets in the current situation. Altaïr was his ace but what else did he have?

"Where is my sword?" he asked. Altaïr looked visibly surprised.

"What?!" Altaïr replied looking confused. Malik rolled his eyes and Altaïr crushed him into a shaky embrace. He returned the gesture because despite everything that had gone down it did bring him comfort to be held. He found himself uselessly flailing with the remains of his left arm which unbalanced him both emotionally and physically.

Altaïr must have felt him tensing because he said, "Please don't be angry at yourself," with almost a pleading voice while rubbing soothing circles on his back. Malik took a deep breath to calm himself down. He could not afford to lose it now.

"I need to have my sword back," he repeated after a long moment of silence where he just let himself take comfort in Altaïr's proximity.

"What's so special about that sword to make you insist after it so hard?" Altaïr asked him. Malik sighed and reluctantly removed himself from Altaïr's arms.

"It is not the sword itself but the runes on it," he replied and then paused before continuing, "Leonardo modified them not too long ago when they were not working properly. I need to know what type of runes they are but I was too ignorant to know at the time anything beyond their colour."

Altaïr then finally smirked in the cocky way Malik was used to instead of the worried frowns he had seen until then.

"You are planning something. I can see it in your face," Altaïr replied confidently. Malik nodded and stood up to stand in the hay.

"I suspect Leonardo is aware of my true nature which would make him an ally but I need to be sure before we return to Monteriggioni," he said thoughtfully. He paced around the barn to feel his balance which was so awfully off he felt like vomiting. He wanted to explode at someone so hard but managed to keep himself relatively calm by sheer willpower.

"Where is the apple, Altaïr?" he finally snapped when he stumbled once again when he lost his balance.

"It's not here. It's in Italy though," Altaïr answered defensively and it all made sense now.

"Why were you feeding the fiend in Venice?" he questioned even if he had a pretty good guess considering Altaïr's nature.

"I was attempting to lure monster hunters. I succeeded," Altaïr replied calmly.

"Why?" Malik demanded.

"I've been killing hunters since you died," Altaïr answered with something akin to hurt in his voice. Malik should have known the idiot would embark on a revenge quest.

"Did I ask you to avenge me?" he retorted angrily even though he really liked the idea Altaïr deemed him so important to wage a war against the whole world but on the other hand he hated the recklessness of the actions.

"No! You were dead!" Altaïr snapped back. Malik stopped his pacing to really look at Altaïr. What he saw nearly broke his heart. Altaïr had his expression twisted in a morph between guilt and hurt.

"What was I supposed to do? Our small coven in Masyaf was destroyed, you were dead, and it was all my fault!" Altaïr accused. Malik had not stopped to think about Altaïr even once before this. But the truth was they were both hurting from past events and only Malik had been given a clean slate for a time while Altaïr had continued to suffer through the consequences of his actions.

This time it was Malik who pulled Altaïr into embrace. It was a clumsy affair with only one arm but Altaïr accepted it and pushed his head against Malik's shoulder. Malik pulled Altaïr's hood off so he could run his fingers through the man's short hair in a comforting manner.

"I did not mean it like that," Malik sighed after a long silence. It felt like they were both walking on eggshells trying to dance around each other's hurts. Altaïr replied his words by giving him a squeeze.

"We cannot keep this up, Altaïr," he said resolutely.

"What do you mean?" Altaïr questioned.

"We cannot keep hiding in this barn forever clinging to each other like newborn puppies," Malik clarified. He could feel Altaïr tense at the words.

"You were hurt really badly. I say it's fine to cling," Altaïr argued back.

"Yes, but it also will not progress our plans," Malik retorted and separated from Altaïr once again.

"I don't even know what our plan is," Altaïr replied exasperated, though the small changes in tone and mannerism would seem to anyone else as if Altaïr was completely stoic. Malik had spent hundreds of years reading Altaïr and knew the man was not following him in the least anymore.

"Our plan starts with you going back to the –," Malik had to swallow down something creeping up his throat for the fear of his voice cracking which would not do. He felt furious at his own incompetence and practically growled the rest, "back to the golem and retrieving my sword.

"Flying there and back will take only a few moments. I will stay back while you go," and admitting aloud he could not fly hurt like his arm was ripped off once again. He bit his lip to remain calm because it would not do to lose his temper now or Altaïr would not be convinced to leave him alone even for a few minutes.

"What if somebody finds you while I'm gone?" Altaïr questioned him with a clear distaste to the idea.

"In the unlikely event anyone deems this barn important enough to come into I will turn and keep sitting on one of the support beams," he answered firmly. Altaïr seemed to accept this as the man nodded.

He looked up at the support beams hanging from the ceiling trying to figure out a way to make his way there. Just a few days ago he would have simply climbed there without much of a difficulty. Now climbing was no longer an option. He could not climb without his other hand and his balance was badly off making the feat impossible. He clenched his remaining fist in frustration and anger the situation brought him.

He looked at Altaïr who had pulled on his hood and was quietly observing him. He didn't want to ask for help. His pride did not allow it but he had little choice in the matter if he wanted to proceed. He swallowed and forced himself to look outwardly calm.

"Could you help me to get up there?" he asked tentatively. Surprise seemed to pass through Altaïr's features before his lopsided smirk took its place.

"Sure," Altaïr answered simply.

Malik took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He had not turned into an owl for ages but the familiar feeling of his limbs stretching and constricting at the same time washed over him like he had come home from a long journey. The transformation only took a small fraction of time to complete after which he found himself on the prickly hay looking up at Altaïr.

He stretched his wings from an old habit and was disappointed to feel his asymmetrical form once again as he had only half of a left wing. He could not of course speak in this form because for all intents and purposes he was an eagle owl, so he let out an angry hiss.

Altaïr picked him up from the ground and placed him on his shoulder. Malik punctured his talons through the fabric of Altaïr's robes for a better hold careful not to actually puncture any skin.

It didn't take Altaïr long to climb to the rafters. Malik jumped off and walked on the beams looking for a suitable place to perch on. He found such a place from a corner of the barn where he could hide his left side if anyone would happen to come, but at the same time keep an eye on the door. Being an owl had its perks because not only would he be able to hide in plain sight his hearing improved considerably as well.

Altaïr looked up at him from the ground. The man seemed torn between things, so Malik decided to hiss at Altaïr in an attempt to usher him to leave already.

"Are you sure you're going to be fine?" Altaïr asked making Malik want to throw something at him or scream at the man, but he was currently unable to do either of those things. Instead he ruffled up his feathers and glared furiously at Altaïr. Altaïr seemed to take the clue and left.

Malik could hear the faint sounds Altaïr's wings made in the air before they disappeared. The world was silent except for the mice scurrying under the hay. It gave him time to stop and really think about things. How did things end up like this? But he knew the answer lay in something they had set in motion centuries ago. It was just nice to pretend they caught bad luck.

* * *

Malik's house used to be on the outskirts of Jerusalem but as the time passed on and the city grew it was swallowed into the ever growing maze of houses. Somebody might have told him that the small house was now worth much more than it used to be but he had no reason to be interested in estate values. He only needed a place to stay during the days and a place to keep his books and maps.

Currently his house was starting to feel rather cramped as it didn't only house himself, but also Altaïr and two turned vampires called Rauf and Abbas. They were running a monster hunting scheme in Jerusalem and had taught the two turned vampires their ways of discretion. It was a system that benefited everyone even if Malik had a hard time convincing Altaïr not to murder the newcomers when Rauf, then Abbas years later, first appeared in the city.

"We need to relocate," Altaïr said to him one day. Malik had been toying with the idea for a while now but he wasn't keen on the idea of leaving Jerusalem behind. They could hardly fit in his house and if any more vampires arrived in the city and they managed to ally themselves with them they would no longer be able to fit at all. He sighed in defeat and rubbed his face.

"You are right but where could we possibly go?" he asked Altaïr because finding a new place was not that easy. He would have to make Altaïr use his brain for this. Altaïr smirked in response and said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world,

"Masyaf."

There was an abandoned fortress on top of a hill in Masyaf and a small village beneath it. It was a secluded location cut off from the rest of the world by sheer cliffs and mountains. Only one road lead there. As much Malik hated to admit it the location was perfect for a vampire coven.

They moved in and if it wasn't for Abbas complaining about Malik's books everything would have been practically cheery. Rauf especially was eager to tell them how much he was looking forward to moving somewhere where he didn't have to fear kicking someone in his sleep. He liked Rauf. The man was very kind and had retained much of his humanity even after being turned.

Somehow more and more vampires started turning up in Masyaf. Most of them were turned vampires seeking a purpose in life after their creators had discarded them. They had their hands full trying to teach them their tenants or what they called now a creed. They were all the same things he had hammered in Altaïr's head all those years ago but now it was Altaïr speaking with authority to the men and women who had gathered to listen to him.

They thrived and prospered. They lived in an uneasy peace with the village that they protected from any threat whether it was monsters or raiders. In exchange the villagers let them do their own thing. Altaïr was given the title of mentor and even if they officially didn't have any ranks amongst them Altaïr was the one who led them. Malik sat in the shadowy library and ran their coven from there. Eagle of Masyaf soaring the skies and the Wise Owl of Jerusalem, making them a duo of deadly birds of prey which all monsters, both actual monsters or humans worthy of being called monsters ought to have been scared of.

Then they found the Apple. Malik had read from some dusty tome about magical artefacts called 'Pieces of Eden' and of their great powers as well as the knowledge contained in them. They made an expedition to find one of the things. It was under an old temple in Jerusalem and looked like a golden ball roughly the size of a pomegranate. Overall a very plain object except for the golden shine it had.

They brought it back home and told of their findings to others. They could not have possibly suspected how the Apple affected people who touched it. It drew turned vampires nearly mad when they came into contact with it, despite it not doing much of anything to pure-blood ones. Abbas especially had a really bad fit with the thing as he openly challenged Altaïr's authority while in it.

They managed to secure the Apple back and it was the point when Malik decided he would rather destroy it than study it any further. Altaïr saw the thing differently, so they settled up on an uneasy compromise where they kept the apple hidden away and Altaïr would study it privately.

The years went on as if nothing had ever happened but the seeds for destruction had been sown the day they had brought the Apple to Masyaf. Perhaps it was because of Altaïr's obsession with the object that they didn't notice something being terribly wrong amongst themselves.

The Crusader army pushed themselves to what the humans called Holy Land and brought amongst themselves vampire hunting priests. It was to one of them Abbas sold them all in the hopes of getting his hands on the Apple.

Masyaf's villagers let the numerous vampire hunters march straight into their fortress where they massacred their whole coven. Abbas did not get the Apple. Instead he got a stake through his heart courtesy of a German vampire hunter.

Malik fled Masyaf in a fit of rage and headed to Jerusalem, which he still after spending such a long time in Masyaf regarded as his home. It was in that city the hunters caught up with him, cornered him and killed him with a stake through his heart. No doubt the hunters were proud of themselves for having killed such an ancient vampire.

The next time he was conscious it was in Italy and his head was full of rage he didn't know the source for. He thought he was human and yet hated every human around himself in a way he had never hated while he had been before his death. He embraced the hate with his being, making him violent much the same way Altaïr had been when he first had met the man.

He had filled his days with killing monsters and being angry at the world. An ever-consuming need to spill blood was all he ever thought he needed. He had isolated himself and attributed it to his poor social skills. Most of the time his own actions had not made any sense to himself nor to the people close to him.

Then Altaïr had appeared and changed his life once more.

* * *

He heard Altaïr before he actually saw the man. His observations were proven right when the barn door opened just enough to let Altaïr in. He could not see his sword with the man which brought up a series of questions in his mind.

He jumped down from the rafters and softened his landing by spreading his wings. He ended up spiralling awkwardly as the air passed him unevenly and a stab of hate towards himself passed through him. The anger became even worse as Altaïr caught him mid-air with good intentions of helping his landing. He was put down on the ground where he transformed back into a man.

"I could not find your sword. Ezio must have taken it after I left with you," Altaïr proceeded to tell him promptly.

"Ezio?" Malik questioned because this was a piece he was not aware of and had somehow forgotten the Italian's existence. Ezio would be a valuable resource if the man could be persuaded to ally himself with them. But it would not be easy because of the rigorous training and disdain towards all the monsters they had received.

"Ezio came to the site shortly after I had defeated the golem. He helped me hold you down and gave me his horse. I told him to go and look for the puppeteer which he had done because I found the puppeteer dead nearby in the forest when I checked. I don't know if we can trust him though," Altaïr replied with conviction in his voice.

Malik knew Ezio was fiercely loyal to his friends and family but would the man extend his loyalty to a friend who turned out to be a vampire? At least he had not outright attacked them which was encouraging.

"We need to get back to Monteriggioni."

* * *

When Ezio finally made it back to Monteriggioni on foot he was exhausted both physically and mentally. He had thought he could think things through while on his way back but his thoughts had raised more questions: some which he had not had the mind to ask from Altaïr while he had had a chance, but also questions he needed to make for his father.

All the implications were not pleasant in the least. But the horrible truth was, as his mind had stopped running on adrenaline long enough to actually concentrate on individual ideas, that his friend lay dead in the snow and his other friend lost his arm even if they had turned out to be vampires. Malik had been his best friend for nearly two decades and it wasn't something he could erase from his mind just like that.

But it was all so confusing as he had been raised to believe vampires were cold-blooded horrible killers that prowled on anyone and killed without discrimination. Yet apparently his best friend had been one all along, Kadar too, and most definitely Altaïr was one. Malik was pretentious prick, Kadar was naïve, and Altaïr a jerk, but none of them filled the description of a vampire in his head leaving him questioning whether he was just being lead on or if there was something else in the works.

Then the questions that had risen to his mind from interrogating the Vatican vampire hunter which he could not make heads nor tail of. The leader Robert De Sable had something in his possession which revealed someone as a vampire but had remained quiet of Malik's presence not ten metres away from him during that one meeting in Monteriggioni. Or had he? Was his father aware of the situation but allowed Vatican to march over them like nothing? He truly hoped it was not the case.

He marched straight into his father's study with his wet boots and cold feet which had grown numb roughly an hour ago. It was already morning as walking through wet snow and making a detour into the forest had slowed him considerably.

As the warmth of the room hit him he could feel when something almost popped in his nose making it run. He felt rather miserable after all the things that had gone down and to see his father sitting behind his desk looking unaffected somehow infuriated him even if he logically knew his father could not possibly know what had gone down apart from the attack on Claudia and Kadar.

"Kadar is dead," he said the way he had practised, but it didn't make the words any easier and he felt his chest being constricted by grief. His father regarded him with a raised brow over a stack of papers.

"Is that so?" his father commented rather casually considering the situation. Ezio felt his thoughts come to a sudden stop and he felt his lips forming the words but felt disconnected to them,

"We need to send someone to retrieve the body. He deserves a proper burial," he monotoned numbly. His father nodded in response and returned to his work. Ezio stood still while the silence stretched between them waiting for some sort of reaction from his father. The reaction never came.

"What about Malik? Are you not concerned how he is?" Ezio questioned in an attempt to stir something in his father. His father glanced at him shortly before continuing writing.

"Presumably dead too. An unfortunate loss but a necessary one," his father said uninterested. Ezio felt his jaw drop to the floor.

"What?!" he snapped in disbelief. This made no sense not in any logical way he could think of. His father could not know Malik's fate unless he knew something Ezio did not and the implications were not something he liked to think about.

"The Vatican wanted the brothers dead. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it, Ezio," his father said with more emotion in his voice than he had exhibited the entire exchange they had had.

"You let the Vatican walk over us? Now my friend is dead because of some bloodthirsty psychopath from France wanted to shed some blood?" he exploded finally as all the emotions came to an unsolvable tangle in his head. He was angry at his father's passiveness, at the Vatican, and at being deceived for nearly twenty years.

He walked away from the room still fuming and slammed the door shut just because he could. On his way back to his chambers he realised he had not told his father Malik was still alive, letting his father continue to assume his friend was dead, and that he still had Malik's silver sword. He decided he needed dry clothes and sleep despite being convinced sleep would not find him.

He lay awake in his bed for hours trying to make sense of everything, feeling slightly nauseated at the whole ordeal. After not making much sense of anything, but deciding to take Malik's sword for Leonardo to look at he fell asleep.

He slept fitfully until he was woken up by distraught Claudia tackling him while he was still in his bed. He blinked couple of times trying to rid himself of the sluggishness he felt for being woken up so abruptly. He didn't quite understand what was going on but wrapped his arms comfortingly around his sister.

Then he realised his sister was crying and it all came down crashing down to him. Kadar was dead. Malik was a one armed vampire. The Vatican vampire hunters had caused this. His father had allowed all of it without resistance.

He comforted his sister the best he could while drawing comfort for himself in return. He was pretty sure Claudia had been in love with Kadar and in any case the two had been best friends much the same way he had been best friends with Malik.

Then he remembered that Kadar had protected Claudia and it was for that reason he had been killed. His father had been ready to sacrifice Claudia as collateral damage to appease the Vatican and only Kadar's altruistic nature had saved his sister. The thoughts angered him beyond anything. Nobody touched his family – not even the Vatican.

"Father told me Kadar is dead. I did not believe him, but then I saw the body and -" Claudia burst back into tears. Ezio didn't know how to comfort her but kept hugging her and he tried reasoning with her,

"Father told me Kadar was a vampire and the Vatican -"

"I don't care what he was! He was my best friend! I loved him, Ezio!" Claudia screamed at him with a broken voice and eyes reddened with tears. She hit him in the face in her fit and stormed away.

"I did not mean it like that!" Ezio attempted to reconcile desperately but Claudia just screamed something unintelligible at him and slammed the door shut. He could hear her crying and throwing fits in the hallway until she was too far away for him to hear her any longer.

Ezio rubbed the place where she had hit him feeling like a complete shit. But it wasn't all he was feeling because there was another feeling pooling in his gut which Claudia's words had ignited. He sympathised with his sister as Malik was his best friend and he felt an injustice had been done onto him.

He put on his clothes, strapped on his weapons including his friend's silver sword. He set his mind on the purpose of seeing Leonardo. He didn't know if Leonardo had been informed of the events that had gone down previous night but he would tell the inventor if need be. Leonardo deserved as much.

He made his way through Monteriggioni. The town seemed to be unaffected by the events that had happened. In some way Ezio found it unsettling that the world could just keep on going without any care when somebody had just died and he found himself wondering if it would be the same when he died one day. He had always thought he would leave a lasting legacy behind him but now that he looked at the people making their way through the slushy streets he wasn't sure he was managing to do that. Sure he had killed plenty of monsters but so had Malik and nobody was missing the man even if he was now presumed dead.

There wasn't much in his life he had done besides killing monsters. He had always left all the thinking to his father and his brother, while he assumed the role of soldier to be used as they saw fit. He received very little praise for fulfilling that duty and now his father had all but spat on his face by depriving him of crucial information.

He was in luck to find Leonardo awake at his workshop. He would not have to go through the awkward dance of trying to wake the man up politely. As he stepped inside the workshop and saw Leonardo's expression he knew Leonardo knew what had happened. The genius looked weary as if he had not slept at all and his clothes were paint-stained. Leonardo put on a sad smile as he greeted him and Ezio crushed the inventor into a bear hug.

"I tried to paint them before I forgot what they looked like," Leonardo said and waved towards two canvases in the middle of the room. Ezio released his friend and took a look at them. Sure enough there were two incomplete paintings of Kadar and Malik.

"Did they tell you they were actually vampires? My best friend was a vampire all along. I do not know how to feel about that," he questioned tentatively. Leonardo's features turned firmer.

"I knew it almost from the beginning. It doesn't change who they are, because they are first and foremost Malik and Kadar. Only after that they are vampires, monster hunters, or soldiers," Leonardo lectured him and Ezio's conviction grew. The message was the same one Claudia punched into his face, just presented in a more sophisticated manner.

"You can stop painting Malik, Leonardo, my friend," he said with a purpose in his voice. Leonardo looked at him eyes wide open when the genius realised what his insinuation meant.

"They told me he was dead," Leonardo retorted disbelieving.

"Altaïr saved him. I even helped him," Ezio replied calmly. He paused to think what he should say next and then continued in a hushed tone like a conspirator, "Malik is missing his left arm but he is out there somewhere with Altaïr."

Leonardo tackled him in a hug and Ezio could feel as the relief practically washed over the genius. It must have been devastating for Leonardo to learn that both of them were dead and while the genius was no doubt heartbroken over Kadar there was still hope because Malik was alive. He removed Leonardo as politely as he could because he had important business too.

"I have Malik's sword with me and I noticed the runes are not working -"

"They will not work with you holding the sword because they are not meant for human use," Leonardo cut him short. Ezio gave the sword to Leonardo anyway and looked on as the inventor examined it with a keen eye.

"How about I hold onto this? It is very likely our friend will turn up here eventually," Leonardo suggested. It was a reasonable idea and Ezio found himself agreeing.

Now all he wanted was to see his friend to confirm Malik was still the same man he had come to know. He decided he was done giving any shits about vampires or humans and just wanted his friend back. The Vatican could be damned as far as he knew and he was not going to be like his father letting them walk over himself. He was not going to stand idly by as they murdered innocent people whether those people were vampires or humans. Kadar did not deserve to die, his sister did not deserve to be attacked, and his best friend did not deserve to almost die while losing his arm.

He was going to declare a war on the Vatican hunters and he was not going to listen to his father's objections on the matter.


End file.
